1 Carry on Wayward Road
by skyyador
Summary: Sometimes the road of a wayward son can be hard. Sometimes the road can be fun. But, when it all builds up inside it leaves Dean Winchester questioning his own sanity, and Sam concerned about his big brother. TRIGGER WARNINGS: child abuse, non/con explicit sexual content, language, suicidal attempt read at your own discretion. EDITED for grammar and paragraph length corrections.
1. Chapter 1

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 1

Ever since I was 4 years old it felt like I have lived in a different universe from everyone else in the world. The only escape into reality was when my little brother and I were left at our dad's friend's house. If we were lucky enough to be left with an adult while Dad was gone on long hunting trips it was usually with Bobby or Pastor Jim.

The moment I realized that they understood the life we lived, well, that was the first time I noticed other people lived in the same alternate universe that we did.

My mom, my Angel, the light of my life, was killed in a house fire. I didn't understand it all at first. All I knew was that the fire had started in my baby brother's room and that my Dad tried to save them. The fire woke me up and I ran in to see what was happening. My dad handed me my baby brother and told me to run out of the house with him. I was so scared I didn't even question his demand I just took him and ran as fast as I could.

My mom didn't make it out of the fire. I remember all the flashing lights and loud sirens added to the constant questions from all the police officers had me so scared. My heart was so broken over losing my mom that I couldn't even cry that night. Baby Sammy was only 6 months old so he doesn't remember any of it. He doesn't remember that he was scared too. I know he was because I can still hear his screams and cries from that night. He's the lucky one, sometimes I envy him because he doesn't have to remember that night. The night that changed our lives forever.

I loved my little family. My mom, dad and I had so much fun. I can faintly remember all the laughter we had together. I was so excited when they brought my little brother home for the first time. It seemed like he lived inside my mom's tummy forever before he was finally home! That first night I fell asleep laying on the floor next to his crib. I loved him so much and didn't want to leave his side. I was his big brother and I had to make sure he was safe and all his needs were taken care of.

I guess mom and dad knew this too because they didn't put me in my bed that night. When I woke up in the morning I was still lying beside his crib but someone put a pillow under my head and covered me with my blankie. Yup, I knew I was still loved by them even with a new baby around. As the first few nights passed they let me fall asleep on the floor beside Sammy but I always woke in my own bed. After a while they stopped letting me fall asleep next to him.

I've always wondered if I was sleeping beside his crib that night if I could have saved Sammy and Mom, both. I'm pretty sure I could have. I should have insisted that I continued to fall asleep in his room, then my mom would still be with us. I've always felt responsible for her death. But, at least I could take care of Sammy and get him out of the house. I vowed that night to never let him out of my sight again, I would always make sure he was safe and taken care of.

We moved after that night but never stayed in one place too long. Sometimes we didn't even have a home to stay in. sometimes we would stay in the car for days on end or stay in some run-down motel room, always the cheapest Dad could find. I remember one time we stayed in someone else's home. Dad said they were on vacation, I've never understood what was so special about leaving your home to go stay in a motel room, but as long as we had a place to stay while they were gone, it didn't matter if I understood it or not.

It wasn't until I was older that I realized we really didn't have permission to stay there. Once I found that out, it made more sense why we always had to use the back door and stay inside, and why dad would get so mad if we got too loud. But that house was the best place we ever stayed. It was full of all the food we could possibly want. There was even more than one bathroom so I didn't have to wait to take a shower or use the toilet. The water was still hot even after dad took a shower and I gave Sammy his bath.

Usually, Dad always took his shower first, followed by me giving Sammy his bath, then I cleaned myself last and the water was always cold by then, but not in this house, it was the greatest place I had ever been since leaving our family home. The owners must have had kids because this house even had toys for Sammy to play with.

I didn't tell dad, but I packed away a couple toys for Sammy when we had to leave. He had always had toys that I made for him or found in a dumpster. But, these toys were so clean and weren't broken, plus the ones that made noises actually worked. Dad found out later about the toys and punished me for it, but it was worth it for Sammy.

Dad stayed gone a lot hunting the yellow eyed demon that he said killed our mom. He taught me how to shoot different types of guns and how to use a knife properly. He said it was for protection while he was gone, so I could keep Sammy safe. I always liked it when Dad was away and it was just me and Sammy, but I also missed him sometimes when he stayed gone too long.

Sammy didn't know anything about the demon, or where dad went when he was away. I begged Dad not to tell him! He didn't even remember Mom and I wanted him to stay little and enjoy life like I did when I was his age. I just secretly wished Mom was there to help me with him. Dad never taught me how to change a diaper or make a bottle. I had to figure it out on my own. I'm just glad I was always willing to help Mom when she did it so I wasn't completely lost on how to take care of a baby.

Sometimes, when we lived in the car, Dad would take us on hunts with him. I always hated going on hunts when I was little. Not because I was scared but because I was worried about baby Sammy. Dad would make me so mad when he would put tape over Sammy's mouth so he couldn't cry, he always followed that up by putting tape over his arms and legs attached to his car seat so he couldn't get out or make any movements to draw attention to himself. He said it was for his own good, I knew it was, but it still made me so mad I could feel my blood boil.

After taping Sammy down, he would always hand me a gun and make me hunt with him. It was hard for me to concentrate on the hunt back then because I would always worry about Sammy being alone and scared. When we finished the hunt, I would make sure to hold him extra tight and assure him everything was okay as he laid on my chest soaking my shirt with his tears. After a while I think he got used to it because he stopped crying so much after we got back from a hunt.

We were staying in some run-down motel room the night Sammy walked for the first time. I was so proud of him! I started clapping and cheering for him! He was growing up so fast I couldn't believe it. I guess I got too loud. Dad had just gotten back from a 2-day hunt. He didn't have any money to leave us while he was gone so I went to the dumpster at the nearby diner after they closed and got me and Sammy some food to eat until dad returned.

When he returned he smelled like booze and could barely even walk straight. When he stumbled through the door I jumped up and helped him to his bed, just the way I was trained. He had a beer in his hand that he spilled all over me but I didn't care, I was used to that too. I Removed his dirty, bloody shirt, then his boots I finished by sliding his pants off. I was only 5 at the time but I had learned enough already that I checked him over quick for any injuries. Thankfully the blood seemed to come from whatever creature he killed while he was away.

He passed out and I went back to take care of Sammy. When he stood up and walked all by himself I thought to myself how much I wished Mom could have been there to see him. She would have been proud of him too. That thought only lasted a minute, the next thing I knew I was being grabbed by my hair and pulled up from my seated position. I didn't even have time to process what was happening before I felt my dad's fist hit the left side of my face. His fist came flying at me so fast and hard it ripped my hair out of his hand and launched me on the bed behind me. It took a minute for the pain to catch up. By the time the pain hit I felt another punch, only this time to my ribs, then another to my stomach.

"Don't you cry boy! You knew I was sleeping, how dare you make so much noise you woke me up! Do you have any idea what I've been through the past couple days? You had better shut your mouth or there will be more where that comes from! And wipe those damn eyes of yours! No boy of mine is going to cry!" my dad shouted.

I hadn't even noticed my eyes had filled with unshed tears from the fear and pain. "Yes sir" I replied quickly as I jumped off the bed to wipe my face.

When I had finished splashing my face with water and drying it off Dad was already back asleep. Sammy was sitting on the floor and had gone back to playing after the yelling was over.

"h'gry" Sammy said looking up at me from his toys with sad little eyes.

Honestly, I was hungry too. It had been since dinner last night since I had eaten anything. I made sure what little food I had gotten was left for Sammy to eat through the day. I knew not to wake Dad again but I was sure he had money, he at least had enough to buy the booze he was drinking. I also knew I couldn't leave Sammy alone with him for long in fear that he might cry and wake him up.

"All right Sammy, I'm going to go get us some food, but you have to stay here and be very quiet, okay?"

Sammy nodded his little head "k, Dean".

I sat Sammy between the bed and the wall with his toys where he would be safe. "Stay right here and stay quiet" I instructed him as I hurried out of the room to find him some food.

I wasn't gone but just a couple minutes. I had managed to sneak in the dumpster right after the busy dinner rush. I found a bowl of half eaten mashed potatoes and some left-over chicken strips for Sam. I found a couple half eaten cheeseburgers and some fries for myself. I thought about getting some food for Dad but I needed to hurry and get back to Sammy, and I was afraid someone might see the purple bruise forming on my face, or smell the beer Dad had spilled on me.

I hurried back to the room and quietly snuck back in. I was relieved to see Dad was still sleeping and Sammy was in the same place I left him. I sat myself between the bed and wall with Sam and fed him his food. After he was finished I hurried and gobbled my food down. After playing with my baby brother a little longer I gave him his bath, fresh diaper and clean clothes, then tucked him in bed.

"Good night buddy" I said as I kissed him on his forehead.

"N't Dean" Sammy said in the middle of a long yawn.

Before I knew it, he was sound asleep. I picked up his toys and dirty clothes, cleaning the room as best as possible. Threw the food wrappers in the trash and took a shower myself then fell asleep beside Sam.

This was pretty much the way my life went for the next 4 years. In and out of crappy motel rooms or apartments, living off the streets and out of the car. At least the car was a nice one and I didn't mind being seen in it. Dad even taught me how to drive it in case I needed to drive us out of a bad situation.

Sammy had just turned 5 and wouldn't stop nagging us about going to school. He would see those big yellow school busses and his eyes would just light up! He always was a fast learner. He remembered everything he ever saw or heard. Which made it difficult to talk about hunts at times. But we managed to keep Sammy's innocence and not let him hear us when we talked about them.

Dad allowed Sammy to go to school. He said it would give him something to do during the day instead of sitting around a motel room or getting in his way. I didn't have any interest in going, but I did, so I could keep an eye on my little brother. You never know what monster may be disguised as a human. I hated school and didn't care about learning anything. I mean who needs to know the history or wars when you are fighting your own war with the monsters in the night?

But Sammy, Sammy loved learning everything he could. He got picked on a lot because he didn't have a mom and no one ever met his dad, also his clothes weren't the best. They were the best we had for him but not some name brand preppy clothes like others in his class. I hated to see him sad like that. I started picking up every piece of change I found, you wouldn't believe how many people leave pennies laying on the ground. I saved them all and every day after school I would take Sammy to get his favorite ice cream, counting pennies and nickels at the counter top, before heading back to the darkness of our lives.

Of course, I never got any, told Sam I didn't like ice cream, because I didn't have enough money for both of us. Those were some of the best memories I have, just me and Sammy sitting at the soda fountain, him eating ice cream and jabbering about his day and me just sitting and listening and watching his smiles and excitement for life. Those moments never seemed to last long enough.

Once we got back to the place we were staying for the night I would secretly wish we were back at school. These dingy places we stayed always seemed so dark and depressing. And I was always afraid of what mood Dad might be in when he returned from a hunt or an evening out on the town.

This was about the same time Dad started leaving us with other people. He said it was so Sammy could go to school and learn something. He said it was important for Sammy to be smart. He would always make the comment that someone in the family needed to be smart and it sure as hell wasn't me or him. I pretended when he said those things it didn't bother me but really it did.

I knew I wasn't the smartest, but dad would always make it sound like there was no one dumber than me. I already felt like I couldn't do anything right. I tried but I always seemed to mess everything up. My first hunt with Dad I almost got him killed. We were hunting a vamp and I turned my head when a heard a noise and the vamp jumped on Dad. I froze for just a minute before cutting off its head but Dad almost got bit. At first, I wasn't completely sure he hadn't. We didn't even get out of the woods that day before dad laid into me. I'm sure I had a couple broken ribs from his fists. But I deserved every punch I got.

"You're such a loser!" dad screamed as he threw a punch, "you can't ever seem to do anything right! You deserve every bad thing that happens to you in your life. Why can't you be more like your brother? He's smart and a damn good kid! You're just a fuckin' waste of air!" he screamed as punch after punch came down on my little body.

Deep down I told myself that Sammy was smart and good because of the way that I raised him, me, not Dad, ME. But I never really believed it because that would mean I would have to believe I could do something right, and I don't.


	2. Chapter 2

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 2

"This is so stupid" I said out loud before I realized the words had slipped from my lips.

"What? What's stupid?" Sammy said with a puzzled look on his face.

He didn't know I had talked to a professional. Yeah, me, talking to a professional, that was probably one of the most stupid ideas I have ever had. But I didn't know what else to do. I woke up with this feeling a few months ago and it hasn't gone away, if anything it's gotten worse.

The doc I spoke to said I had PTSD. Some post traumatic crap. Me? Of course, I couldn't be completely honest when I talked to him. I couldn't tell him I was a hunter. He wouldn't understand, so I was convinced his diagnosis was wrong. But this tightness in my chest had gotten so tight I couldn't take it anymore. I felt a hate I had never felt before. A hate for myself. A hate for the life I lived.

I would never kill myself to escape it, no, we have been through too much for that and I couldn't leave Sammy like that. So, I paid $80 to sit on a couch and talk to some crazy doctor about my life and what does he tell me to do? To write. He tells me to write. He said it would help. I'm not sure how he expects that to help. I mean, couldn't he just give me some magic crazy pill and take this tightness away?

"Whatcha writing there ole Deannie boy?" Sam asked playfully as he tried to grab the paper from under my hands.

"Nothing!" I snapped as I yanked the paper away from him. "Just leave me alone."

"Why? What's so secret? Whatcha doing writing a letter to one of your many girlfriends?" Sam asked in a playful manner.

"I said to leave me alone!" I angrily shouted back followed by a pathetic "sorry".

"Fine, whatever you want, Master" Sam replied in an irritated pitch.

I couldn't tell him what I was really writing. Hell, I've tried so hard to hide any emotions I've ever had and here I am exposing them all onto a piece of paper.

"Fuck, I'm going crazy," I announced breaking the silence in the room, "how about you and I go down to the diner and get some pie?"

Sammy was all too ready to get out of this falling down motel room we had been stuck in for the past 3 days. I didn't like the room any more than he did but my body demanded a break from hunting and it was the only thing we could afford. I decided to leave Baby parked in front of our room since the diner was just next door and I figured Sam and I could both use some leg stretching.

We sat in a booth by the window. The waitress that took our order was cute but I was too caught up in my own thoughts to flirt with her. We ordered our drinks, I ordered a piece of apple pie with vanilla ice cream and Sam ordered a bowl full of rabbit food, that he calls a salad. We sat and ate in silence. I'm pretty sure I spent most of the time just staring out of the window we sat beside. I wasn't even sure what I was staring at. Just staring into space, I guess. As I was picking at my pie turning the ice cream back into milk with my spoon Sam broke the silence,

"What's wrong Dean?" he asked with the utmost sincerity.

"Nothing."

"Come on, don't lie to me, I'm your little brother remember? I can always tell when something is bothering you, even when you don't want me to know." He followed up his comment with "whatever it is, it's been bothering you for a couple of months now", as he shoved another fork full of green leafy stuff into his mouth.

Damn, that kid is too good! I've taught him to be a little too observant. "I've just been…. thinking…. dealing with some stuff. Nothing to concern yourself about, Sammy" I said as I reached across the table and rubbed his already shaggy hair.

We walked back to the room slowly, neither of us wanting to go back to that rat hole but knowing we didn't have a choice. We approached the door, and I leaned against Baby's hood.

"I think I'm going to just sit out here for a little while" I announced.

Sam leaned against the hood beside me, "me too" he said silently.

We both stood there for what seemed like a lifetime and only a few minutes at the same time. Honestly, I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn't mean to speak but I was also wanting the silence to end so I didn't completely hate myself for thinking out loud.

"Why did he have to be such an ass?" I spoke silently while reminiscing on memories of my past.

"What?"

"Why did Dad have to be such an ass?" I repeated equally as quiet as I rubbed my face with both my hands, shaking my head as if that would shake the memories out of my mind.

"What do you mean?"

Sam never had a tight bond with dad, but I did. I'm sure Sammy would never think us anything but close. I'm not even sure why I was so close to Dad. Was it because I was being a good little soldier? Maybe I wouldn't love him as much as I did if I didn't jump at every command. But then again, that's how I was trained, the way he raised me.

I would never let Sam know of the shit that man put me through. I raised Sammy to be different. I raised him the way I would have wanted to be raised, well the best I could with the situation I was given that is. All I wanted was for my brother to grow up safe and happy.

"Nothing, neverminded" I said as I pushed myself away from my car and walked into the hotel room with my hands in my pockets and my head hung low. I was followed close behind by Sam, as if he was afraid to leave my side, afraid I might do something stupid if he wasn't right there to watch me.

I sat on the bed furthest from the door. Usually I would always take the bed closest to the door so I could protect Sam if anyone, or anything, tried to come in. But, this time, I didn't feel like I could even keep myself safe. As I sat on the edge of the bed facing towards the door my head began to swim. The muskiness and moldy smell hit my nostrils as I inhaled like a ton of bricks, burning sensations taking over my lungs, as the air I inhaled filled them.

The smell of the room brought back so many memories. But, this time, it wasn't happy memories like earlier. It wasn't memories of my baby brother growing up, experiencing his first milestones in life, full of smiles and giggles. No, these memories were ones I just wanted to be able to forget. These memories hurt, a lot! The ones that I had to fight hard to keep the tears at bay. The ones I never wanted Sammy to know anything about. These memories I kept hidden from everyone, even myself. I'm not sure why they decided to come up at this moment. Why the musky smell of this room brought them back like a flood. It didn't seem to bother me before we left for the diner so why now?

Maybe I just needed some sleep, or perhaps I needed to down a bottle of Jack. That's always helped, drink until I pass out. That sounds good to me at this moment. Just another thing Dad trained me at. Or maybe there is something to this PTSD thing? Maybe I need to do some research on this thing after all. Was the crazy doctor, right? Maybe I was losing my mind. It wouldn't surprise me any if I was, if I became bonified crazy. Not after everything I have seen and been through in my life.

Maybe that's the path my life is taking? Next stop, Crazy Town. But Sam, he seemed to be okay. That boy has always had a good head on his shoulders. He was smart and almost as good of a hunter as I was. I had hoped I protected him enough that he wouldn't suffer the same fate as me. That he wouldn't feel the same pain as I have and see the same horrors that can't be erased from my eyes. I don't want him to go crazy like I am. God, how am I going to tell him I'm going crazy? I'm sure it won't take him long to figure it out.

I could hear faint talking in the background of my thoughts that snapped me back into reality.

"Well if you're not gonna listen to me then there's no point in even talking." Sam said as he got up to take a shower and ready himself for bed.

I didn't even realize he was talking as I sat there with my head full of memories. He was worse than a girl sometimes and usually took forever once he got in the shower. 'That boy needs a real girl, then maybe he wouldn't take such long showers,' I thought to myself with a chuckle. I panned my eyes around the dirty, hole in the wall, room we were living in. The beds were lumpy and uncomfortable. I don't think the bedding has been washed in months, not that they had even been used until we arrived. There was dust covering the puke green bedspreads.

I couldn't imagine any worse of a color. But at least the covers matched the wallpaper I chuckled to myself. And the old-time dresser with the old tv that only picks up 2 channels was just as dusty as the nightstand that stood between the two beds. As I panned the room, my eyes locked on the small table that sat under the light fixture that had cobwebs hanging from it, attached to the wall. I had spent a lot of time sitting at that table, thinking and writing, over the past few days.

"What the hell, why not" I whispered to myself as I pushed myself to a standing position, picked up my paper and pen, sat in the half-broken chair at the table and began to write.


	3. Chapter 3

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER MIGHT BE TRIGGERING TO SOME, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.**

 **CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 3

We were staying in another cheap motel, two old double beds, one for Dad and one for me and Sammy to share. An old table with two chairs and a dresser we never used filled the empty space in the room. We couldn't afford to live out of anything but our duffle bags, we never knew where the hunt would take us so we always had to be ready.

The day started out as any other day. We were hunting a poltergeist. Sam was on his laptop researching the claims. I was reading some books on ways to get rid of different types of poltergeists and Dad was out talking to the neighborhood and police trying to find out everything he could. The room stood quiet with the occasional clicking of Sam's keys on his keyboard. We had been hunting for 3 weeks straight without a break. I was exhausted and just wanted one day without a hunt. I know Sammy had to be feeling the same way, but Dad, Dad kept pushing us.

"I'm so sick of this!" Sam half yelled as he pushed himself away from the table he was sitting at.

I looked up from the book I was reading while sitting on the edge of the bed. "Me too, but what can we do about it? Dad promised after we get rid of this thing we would get a break from hunting."

"Yeah, he's said that a couple times in the past 3 weeks." Then silence, a long silence, filled the air again. "I've applied for college," Sam said quietly, almost in a whisper, as if he wanted to say it but didn't want me to hear it.

"What? What do you mean you applied for college? Sam you're a hunter not a college boy."

"I start next week" Sam said with his head hung low, just as Dad walked through the door.

"Boy, you're not going anywhere!" Dad said in a hateful tone that I hadn't heard in a long time. "This family needs you on this hunt, we need your brains, you can't expect Dean to do everything you do. He's a hunter not a researcher. You can just get that crazy college idea out of your head." By the time Dad had finished talking he was standing face to face with Sam with his fists clenched by his sides.

"Dad, calm down…. sir…. Please." I requested with hesitance as I knew he was already in a foul mood and I had been on the receiving end of those moods on several occasions, but I've always protected Sammy from it, and this time wouldn't be any different.

"I'm leaving tonight!" Sam said while standing his ground.

Secretly I have always wished I could stand my ground to Dad like Sam did, but I knew if I did then no one would be able to protect Sam from his wrath. Before I knew what was happening Sam had his duffle bag in his hand and he was ready to walk out the door.

"I've had enough of this family! I want a normal life with normal people. I can't take hunting nonstop anymore. I have to get away!" Sam said before turning toward the door.

"If you walk out that door don't you ever come back!" Dad yelled as the door to our motel room, the motel room we had gotten as a family, slammed shut.

I'm sure I stood there at the foot of the bed in shock. My brother, my baby brother that I helped keep safe and watched grow up, just walked out on us, on me. My heart sunk, but I would never let Dad know. He was too upset to care about my feelings at that moment.

"Fuck this shit!" he yelled to the top of his lungs as he swung everything sitting on the table onto the floor. "That boy is nothing but a headache," Dad began as he turned to look at me, "you're just gonna have to smarten up some, boy. It's time you grow up and take on more responsibilities."

More responsibilities? What was he talking about? I was already responsible for him and Sammy. I already made sure everyone was taken care of and had what they needed. What responsibilities was he talking about? I didn't have time to question him before the force of his fist to my stomach had knocked me backwards onto the bed. Blow after blow struck my body anywhere his fists decided to land. I hated myself. I would never fight back, not with my dad. I could fight the meanest of monsters but I would never fight my dad. I hated myself for not having enough balls to stop him from hurting me. I always allowed it, to protect Sammy, but now Sammy wasn't here. Now there was no excuse for allowing it, yet, I still did.

I guess he got tired because the punches stopped. I curled in a ball on the middle of the bed as he sat panting on the edge. He had worn himself out, I could tell by how hard his breathing was. The pain that was piercing through my body was making my head dizzy and all I wanted to do was pass out. But, I couldn't. I couldn't let Dad see me weak. I couldn't make him think I couldn't handle a few punches. I'm sure he broke some ribs, again. The feeling I've come to know all too well. I also know they will heal without a problem. The pain in my stomach was probably from some internal and external bruising. The stabbing running through my head would only be temporary. As I analyzed my injuries I had decided there was nothing to be concerned about and once the throbbing of the pain stopped I would be okay. I had gotten lost in my thoughts about myself and didn't even realize Dad had left. I looked up and he was gone, nowhere to be found. I was thankful he had gone as I let out an audible cry of pain and closed my eyes hoping sleep would overtake me and help me feel better.

I'm not sure how long I was out before Dad returned. I'm not sure if it was the strong smell of booze or the loudness of his voice that woke me first. I wasn't even sure what time it was. It took me a moment to realize he had not come back alone.

"Get up boy!" he yelled in a drunken rage.

I opened my eyes and sat up in the bed to look at him. I'm not sure why, maybe intuition, but fear struck my heart when my eyes locked onto his.

"Undress boy. NOW! Did I stutter? I said undress," he commanded.

I couldn't even begin to process his request before he was beginning to rip my clothes off.

"I got it, Dad. I'll undress myself" I exclaimed.

I removed my t-shirt I had been wearing and slipped my blue jeans off.

"Did I stutter boy?" Dad repeated. "I said undress. Everything."

I was a bit in shock with that request as there were other men in the room. My hands had started shaking without even noticing and the rest of my body followed as I stood from the bed and removed my boxer shorts and socks. Leaving nothing on but shame and confusion.

"No one told you to get up boy," he said in the same hateful tone he had been using since Sammy left. "Get your ass back on that bed now." he continued.

As I sat down on the edge of the bed, still confused and in a bit of disbelief, the pounding of his fist hit me square in the middle of my chest forcing my entire body to fall backwards onto the bed. My head started to feel like it was swimming again. The pain from the injuries caused earlier in the night was returning with a vengeance.

What was going on? Why was my dad acting this way with other people in the room? Sure, he had hit me several times before. He has left me with bruises and broken ribs when he returned home from a drunken night. But it had been several years since he's scared me like this. At least Sammy wasn't in the room to witness this I thought to myself. Oh God, Sammy, he wasn't going to ever be around again. My heart returned to a dark sinking feeling.

The pain of the tight ropes rubbing my wrist was the first thing I noticed. I wasn't sure how Dad had managed to get me on my stomach with one hand bound tightly to the bed post, with a rope, tied as tight as he could get it. He was in the process of tightening the ropes bounding my other hand when my mind came back to the present, back to reality.

"Stop fighting me boy!" Dad shouted as he pulled my arm back toward the bed post and held it even tighter than he already was.

The mixture of the tightness of his grip and the angle he held my arm, it felt like he was ripping my arm off at the shoulder. After he finished tightening the rope he leaned into my face. His breath had such a strong smell of booze and cigarettes that I wanted to vomit, but to show any negative reaction now was a sure way of finding his fist against my body again.

"You deserve this boy," he said with a calm slow voice "because of you your brother is gone."

"W..what…what's going..."I tried to stutter the question before I was stopped by his stagnant breath and hateful tone.

"I'm going to go back out, and these boys here," he fanned his hand across the room stopping it pointed at the two men that were standing, watching the entire event take place, "are paying for as much as I want to drink" he continued. "The only thing they want is to teach you a lesson. To punish you for your brother's actions. How could you possibly let him leave like he did! You, boy, you are worth nothing but a good night's drink" he continued as he stood from the bed.

"Dad, no ppplease" I stuttered through the unshed tears and fear "I'll find him and bring him back, I promise, please don't do this" I begged him.

Normally I wouldn't beg but at this moment the fear of uncertainty has taken over any rational thought I had. He shoved a dirty wash rag into my mouth. The taste made me want to puke. I'm sure it had been wet for a couple days by the sour taste and smell that radiated from it. He then covered my mouth and the rag with a big piece of duct tape.

"Now, you take your punishment like I've ordered you to do" he said as he turned his back and walked out the door.

They didn't waste any time once the door was closed behind my dad. The brush of a stranger's hand brushing down the middle of my back sent shivers down every inch of my body.

"My, my what a nice-looking boy we have here," one of the voices said. "I can't wait to have a little fun with you" he continued as he rubbed his hands under my chest and down my stomach.

I tried hard to buck away but the ropes tied to my hands had my body held in place. As his hands slid further down past my stomach, the other man's hands that was sliding down my back continuing past the small of my back stopping only when he found what he had been looking for.

"Well, well" the man chuckled "look what I found here. It feels like it's nice and tight" he continued as I felt the pressure of his finger pushing against the one place I never wanted any man to be.

I felt the bile rise in my throat as I was forced to swallow it back down due to the rag in my mouth. How could this be happening? How could my own dad do this to me? There were two strangers leaned against my naked body, both fondling me in areas I only reserved for the women I met on the road.

It all happened so fast. I didn't realize my tears had released until I felt the sheets beneath my face soaked with salty tears. The pain radiated through my entire body as it was forced opened to allow a stranger to enter.

"Don't worry boy, it will get slick with your blood soon enough" the stranger's voice said quietly in my ear.

I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the smirk on his face. His body pressed against mine, the movements none too careful. Every thrust of his body felt like he was ripping me in half. I'm sure if I didn't have this damn rag in my mouth I would be screaming like a little girl. The thought of that made me feel as sick as having a stranger forcing himself inside of me. How could I allow myself to lay here and cry like a little school girl? I was a grown ass man and I needed to act like it!

The jolting of the stranger's body brought my mind out of my own self punishment. I could tell by the force he was using and the throbbing of his body that he was finishing up his experience with me. The thought crossed through my mind that even as he removed himself from inside me and rolled over onto the bed lying beside me, breathing heavily, that a part of him remained inside. The fleeting thought forced me to swallow back down the bile that rose in my throat once again.

"Your turn." the stranger panted to the other man in the room who had been sitting in a chair beside the bed.

"Well, that sure was a good show," the second man said, "but, I bet I can do better."

He pressed his body against mine and slid himself inside. Oh God, I can't, not again, I thought to myself. My body was tired. I hurt from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Bile kept rising in my throat forcing me to swallow it back down. I could feel the blood trickling down my arms where the ropes had dug into my wrists.

I'm sure my dad was right. I'm sure I deserved this. I've always screwed everything up my entire life. Why would this be any different? I was the one who was always responsible for Sammy, and I let him walk out that door, I didn't even try to stop him. I just let him leave. And this, this is my punishment for being such a screw up! Dad had reminded me several times that I deserved every bad thing in my life. I never hated myself more than I did at that moment. As I laid there, allowing these strangers to fuck me. I hadn't even tried to fight them off or stop Dad from tying my hands. I just locked myself into my own thoughts and feelings and allowed this to happen to me.

The slap across my face brought my thoughts of self-hatred to a halting stop.

"I asked you a question boy, I expect an answer! I asked if you were enjoying this as much as I was." The man who laid on top of me asked, followed up with "as mad as you made me by not answering, the answer had better be yes."

I nodded my head yes as I was instructed to do. But the truth is I didn't care what answers I had to give to any questions they asked just as long as it was over soon. My body had started becoming numb. I could no longer tell what areas the pain was coming from. I just knew it hurt, everything hurt. Oh God, oh God, oh God was all I could think as he pushed inside of me even harder as his hard bulge began to pulsate and he left a part of himself inside me, mixed with the remains of the stranger before him.

Please, please be over with, I thought to myself as he pulled his body off me. I hadn't expected the pain to feel like a stab as he pulled himself out of my body. This time it felt different than the man before. Had he done something different or was he just bigger? I tried to recall the instant memories of what just happened. Truth is I'm not even sure I was completely conscious once the second man started his show for the first stranger.

As I laid tied to the bed, body aching, feeling like a knife had just been stabbed up my ass and exited my throat, there was a knock on the door. I didn't have the energy to even lift my head from the bed to see who in the world would be coming into our motel room. I knew Dad had a key.

Dad! Oh, how much I hoped Dad didn't walk in to see me like this. He would tear me a new one for allowing this, I just knew he would. But I didn't hear his voice, that was a slight relief. I could only hear the voices like they were in the faint distance, even though I knew they were closer than they seemed. I couldn't make out anything they were saying. I couldn't lift my head or even open my eyes without the swimming of my head causing bile to rise.

"He's ready for you." the second stranger's voice said loud and clear enough I knew he had to be standing right beside me.

But who was he talking to? The knock. Who had knocked on the door I began to wonder. Was there someone else he was preparing me for? Oh, God, this wasn't over. How much more? How many more?

Pain shot through my body like bullets being sprayed into me. Constant, never ending pain, every muscle in my body had tightened so tightly they could no longer hold on and relaxed without hesitation. I could no longer think straight. All I wanted was for this pain, this torture, to be over.

Why, Sammy, why? Why did I have to let you walk out that door? Why was I always screwing everything up? Maybe I had screwed up his life too, maybe that's why he had to leave. If that was true than maybe I deserved more pain, more punishment, more than I was being given. Maybe I deserved my body to be torn in half the way it was feeling like it had already been done. All I wanted to do was protect my baby brother. I guess I didn't do such a good job at that, instead I pushed him out, into a world without protection. Into a world where others didn't understand the monsters in the dark.

My thoughts faded in and out with the consciousness of my body. I'm not sure how many men were in that room by the time they were finished. Maybe five? Six? That I could recall that is. I don't know how many, if any, I couldn't recall. I slipped my eyes opened when I heard the door slamming shut followed by complete silence in the room.

I could see the daylight shining outside. Oh man, how many hours, or days, had I been laying here? It felt like forever. My body completely numb from everything but the feel of stabbing knives radiating through my bones. I was relieved to find I was alone in the room. I didn't even care that I was still tied, laying naked on blood, sweat, and cum filled sheets. I was shivering from the coldness in the room but I didn't care. All I cared about was that I was finally alone. Finally, no longer being punished for my screw ups. My eyes drifted close as darkness, once again, filled my world.

I'm not sure how long I was out. When I woke up my hands were untied. I was still laying on my stomach, still laying naked, covered in the remains of the strangers from earlier. My dad laid on the bed beside mine. He appeared to be sleeping off the drunkenness he filled himself with. I couldn't let my dad see me like this.

A small part of me knew he was the one who untied my hands, but I had hoped he was too drunk to remember the site he saw when he came back into the room. I, painfully, slid myself off the bed, too weak to even walk. I crawled toward the bathroom, stopping only to get a change of clothes from my duffle bag. Once I got in the bathroom I turned the shower on, laying in the tub letting the hot water hit my aching body and wash off the reminders of the night. I laid there until the water turned ice cold and the shivering of my body made everything hurt worse. I pulled myself from the freezing waters and slid into a clean pair of sweat pants and long sleeve oversized shirt.

Usually I would be seen in nothing but a pair of jeans and multiple layers of shirts, but the thought of those articles of clothing against my aching body was more than I could handle. The fact it was a hot summer day didn't even cross my mind when I got dressed. The only thing I was concerned with was covering any evidence of the torture my body endured.

I stood in the bathroom leaned against the sink as I reached for the door knob. I was determined, no matter the pain, I was going to walk out of the bathroom and not give into the pain that was taking over my determination to appear normal. I was shocked as I walked into the room to see my dad sitting on the edge of the bed putting on his boots.

"You ready to go son?" he asked as if nothing had just happened. As if I didn't just go through the worst night of my life. As if the pain I was feeling wasn't real.

"Sir?" I asked not sure exactly what he was asking.

"There's a hunt the next state over I saw in the paper this morning" he answered my question with. "Grab your bags, son. We'll grab some food when we stop for gas" he said as he stood from the bed grabbing his duffle bag and walking out the door.

Barely even able to stand on my own, I grabbed my bag and followed quickly behind him.

Nothing was ever mentioned about that night. No questions were asked. No comments were made. Like it never existed, for either of us. Perhaps, because I believed I deserved everything I was given, I never questioned the actions of my father that evening. We continued to the next hunt as I fought through the pain. But then again, that's pretty much the way my entire life story goes.


	4. Chapter 4

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 4

"DEAN!" Sam's yell woke me in a bit of panic mixed with confusion.

"Huh?" I replied as I opened my eyes.

I found myself still sitting at the table in the broken-down chair in our motel room. The paper and pen I was using to write with sat on the table under my head. Sam, Sam was standing there beside me. I wasn't sure if I had written my memories down or just dreamt of them. I couldn't look at the paper, I couldn't read it with Sammy standing beside me.

I quickly grabbed the paper up and jumped to my feet. The blinding sunlight was shining brightly through the crack in the curtains. Obviously, I had fallen asleep sitting at the table. As the daze and confusion left my body I walked to the bathroom to relieve myself then sat on the edge of the bed closest to the door. Sam sat in the chair beside me, the look on his face told me he had something to say but was afraid to say it.

"What?" I asked with a bit of annoyance. I had hoped if I did write my memories on paper that he hadn't read them.

"What were you dreaming about, Dean?"

"Doesn't matter." I quickly replied, hoping to avoid my thoughts and feelings.

"Dean," Sam continued, "when I came out of the shower last night you were sitting at the table writing on that silly paper. You were so lost in yourself you didn't even know I was in the room. You didn't even acknowledge me when I spoke to you. I decided to leave you alone and let you do whatever your crazy self wanted to do. But, you made it hard for me to sleep. Your dreams kept waking me up."

"Huh?"

"Well not your dreams, technically" he replied to my confusion. "You were dreaming out loud, you fell asleep sitting at that dumb table. And woke me up several times through the night groaning and fighting something, or someone, off in your sleep. I even tried to shake you to wake you up and you just took a swing at me and yelled 'no get off me'".

Damn, I thought to myself, I had hoped I didn't say anything to give away the memories I was reliving in my sleep. Maybe that meant I hadn't written it down after all? Maybe I just dreamt of it? A little hesitant I broke the silence, almost afraid to ask

"Did… did I s… say anything else… in my sleep?"

"Not that I could make out" Sam answered.

I released a breath I didn't know I was holding as a sign of relief, until Sammy decided he wanted to create some chick flick moment, that is.

"Well it took me a few tries to even get you to wake up this morning" Sam continued. "Dean, I've let this go on for long enough, if you don't think I don't notice something is going on then you're dumber than I give you credit for."

Yeah, I knew he noticed I just hoped he would ignore it. I shivered a little with the thought of my brother thinking I was dumb, I knew I was, but it sounded like Dad talking when he said that.

"Talk to me, Dean. What the hell is going on with you these past few weeks?" he asked, when I didn't give an answer he continued to talk. "I followed you the other day, I saw you go into that shrink's office. Dean, I never imagined you'd ever talk to some quack."

I buried my face in my hands and just shook my head as he continued to talk.

"Dean, I'm worried about you. I really am. Will you please talk to me? At least let me know that you're going to be okay." He completed as we sat there in a long silence.

"Bitch" I said in a joking tone. "I'm starved let's go eat."

I tried to stand from the bed. I'm not sure what was going on with my body. I couldn't seem to stand. My body stayed planted in one spot.

"Never mind, I think I'm just going to lay down and sleep" I stated, not wanting Sam to notice despite my trying I couldn't seem to make my body move.

I allowed my arms to give out and I fell to my back, legs still hanging off the bed, I closed my eyes.

"FINE! I'll just read what you've been writing." He was using his normal bratty little brother tone as he grabbed the paper sitting beside me, fear filled every being of my body.

"Sam, stop!" I shouted back at him, too worn out to allow my body to react with my voice. "Sammy, please," I said in a pathetic quiet voice, "Sammy, please just this one thing, please don't, I'm begging you Sammy. I'll talk okay? I just need to sleep first. I'm just so tired. That damn quack didn't give me any damn pill to keep me from being so tired." I could tell the last part of my statement trailed off into a whisper as I fell into the darkness I both loved and hated at the same time.

Sam wasn't dumb, I was the dumb one. He recognized my lack to stay awake and focus for long periods of time as depression long before I did. I'm not even sure if I completely understood it all yet, or why I was feeling the way I was.

"Dean," Sam quietly said as he gently shook me awake.

I noticed it was getting dark in the room. Where had the blinding light from the window went?

"Dean, you need to eat something" Sam said with a soft concern in his voice as he handed me a wrapped burger and container of fries he had bought for me at the nearby diner.

I rubbed my eyes, still a bit groggy, and pushed myself into a sitting position so my back was leaning against the wall. I was thankful I could get my body to agree to move again.

I gobbled down the burger and fries, guess I was hungrier than I knew I was. Sam sat on the bed beside me watching me intently as I chose to ignore his stares. When I finished I stood to go relieve myself in the bathroom. Returning to the room I sat with my back against the wall in the same place I just stood from moments ago.

"What Sam!" I said a bit aggravated that he was staring at me so hard, like I was going to break any moment.

I instantly regretted the hateful tone in my voice. I placed my face in both of my hands and tried to wipe the thoughts away. I knew I couldn't go on like this. But, to audibly admit everything wasn't fine would be a sign of weakness. I just wish the kid would stop looking at me like he was.

"I'm not in the mood, Sammy" I said with my head in my hands. I looked up to see Sam with his puppy dog eyes when I didn't get a reply from him.

"But, you promised, Dean." he said sighed.

I sat up to straighten my back against the wall, "I don't know if I can do this, Sammy" I said whole heartedly.

"Do what?"

I wasn't even sure what I was talking about anymore. Do what? I don't know if I can go on like this. I don't know if I can continue my life, or if I wanted to. I don't know if I can talk to Sam about my feelings. I don't know if I can admit my weaknesses. I don't know if I can handle being anything but strong in front of my baby brother.

"I don't know," I replied after a long pause. I continued "I just don't know anymore, Sammy. I think I'm losing my mind." I paused to look up and see the smirk on Sam's face as if to say he didn't realize I ever had one. "I'm serious," I said after locking eyes with my brother.

My brother, who was a full-grown man. He wasn't the same little boy I raised. He wasn't a kid anymore. He had seen the horrors of the life we lived. He was no longer sheltered from the fears of the night. He could handle the truth, right? Or maybe not? Maybe I should just stop talking while I'm ahead. A. head. Hmm I wouldn't mind putting a bullet through my head right now. Not to take my life, just to silence the thoughts, even if only for a minute.

As the thoughts swirled in my head I hadn't realized I started rubbing the gun I keep on my waistband. I pulled it out and held it in my hands. Feeling the familiar medal in my hands. I had been handling a gun since I was 5 years old. I've killed more times than I could possibly remember.

I always kept my gun locked and ready with one in the chamber. A flip of the safety and a bullet would fly out faster than the speed of light. SHIT! What was I doing? What was I thinking? Here I am lost in my failing mind, holding my gun in my hand, with Sammy sitting across from me watching with wide eyes. I looked up at him and locked eyes again. He must have seen the unshed tears I fought hard to keep back. Aware of what I was doing again, I slowly reached my arm out with the heavy metal object glowing in the hotel lights.

"Here, Sammy, take it" I said as I handed him my gun.

Without hesitation, he reached out and took it from my hand. Damn, how did that kid get so fast at discharging a weapon? In the blink of an eye the hand gun he laid on the table between us was safe again. It no longer held the threat it once had. I wouldn't off myself. I couldn't do that to Sammy, but damn, I wish sometimes I could. But, how do I make him understand that? How do I reassure him that even if I was going crazy I still loved my annoying little brother?

"Dean?" Sam broke the silence with just my name. I could see the concern in his eyes. The fear that something may really be wrong.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay? I mean like really okay?"

I'm not sure if he noticed himself or not but when I looked up at him I saw the tear drops falling from his concerned eyes. My little brother, all grown up, concerned about me. When did that happen? I am the one who is always supposed to be worried about him, not the other way around.

"I. Don't. Know" I answered slowly, as if those words were the most painful thing I had ever had to face. "Honestly, Sammy, I don't know."

Once I had made the decision to give an honest answer I knew if I stopped I may not say another word, so I continued "I don't know what's wrong with me anymore. That crazy quack of a doctor told me I'm dealing with some crazy PTSD thing, which is a load of crap! He told me if I write my thoughts down it would help."

"Does it? Does it help?"

"I don't know. In a way, I guess it does but in a way, I think it only makes it worse."

"Makes what worse?" Sam asked trying to understand the pieces of my mind I was laying out.

"The memories" I said after a long pause of silence. I said it so quietly I almost couldn't hear my own words coming out of my mouth. Like the acknowledgement that I had been defeated. Defeated by my own self.

We both sat there in complete silence for an unknown amount of time as I chewed on my thoughts and what I wanted to say.

"I love you, man" I finally forced out.

Not what I was planning on saying but it's what came out. "I would never do anything to hurt you, not intentionally, you know that, right?" I continued as I looked deep into my brother's eyes. "I wish I could Sammy, I wish I could just get life over with, stop everything I feel, everything I think. But, I could never do that to you. I could never hurt you like that." I stopped to wipe the tears that began to fall from my eyes. I couldn't even look up. I couldn't look at my brother. I wouldn't be able to handle the hurt in his eyes, the disappointment I'm sure he was feeling. "How much do you know about Dad?" I asked without even realizing I had asked it.

"What? What does this have to do with Dad?"

"What doesn't have to do with him?" I asked in return. Dad always has something to do with everything. Every thought, every decision I make in life is Dad talking inside my brain.

Sam knew this. He always ragged me for being "a good little soldier". Sometimes I hated to admit that he was right. Of course, I would never let him know that he was ever right. Just part of trying to keep my annoying brother humble.

"He wasn't always the greatest" I admitted with hesitation. "He wasn't always loving a caring."

"Oh, really?" Sam replied with no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice. "If you thought I believed for one moment that Dad has ever been the greatest, loving, caring father out there then you're du"

"Stop, please Sam" I interrupted. I couldn't handle hearing him call me dumb again. I heard that so many times growing up it would make me sick to my stomach and just add to my self-hatred.

"I'm sorry Dean, but stop what?"

"Stop calling me dumb, please, Sammy, please just stop," I once again continued, knowing if I stopped I wouldn't want to start back. "Sam," I said sheepishly, "I know I'm not the smartest, but I got so tired of Dad always calling me dumb. I've always known you were smarter than me but I hate… I hate feeling like I'm dumb." I paused for just a moment to catch my breath, and my thoughts. "I'm sorry Sammy, I'm sorry if I've ever failed you." I continued filling myself with more self-hatred.

"You haven't failed me"

As I tried to collect my thoughts I could feel my eyes get heavy and drift opened and closed. I suppose Sammy was satisfied with the interaction for his chick flick moment, at least for the time being. And, I once again drifted into the darkness that I've became all too familiar with.


	5. Chapter 5

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 5

"Good catch Dean!" Bobby exclaimed as the football twirled through the air right into my open arms.

I ran a few feet and threw the ball to the ground. "Touch down!" I yelled as I danced around the ball in a silly way.

Sammy sat there laughing at my silliness as Bobby congratulated me. Bobby was always like the dad I always wanted. I loved when our dad would leave us with him. We always had so much fun. It was a break from the hunting world. Those were the moments I felt normal. The only moments I felt normal. I felt like I could be a kid when I was at Bobby's.

Secretly I had wished Dad would leave us here, forgetting to pick us up. But I also knew he needed me to help him hunt. Bobby was always calm and patient with me and Sam, even when I screwed something up. He would always take the time to teach me what I did wrong instead of just yelling at me. But, the best thing was, he never raised a fist to hit me, no matter how bad I screwed up, he never hit me. I felt so safe. I knew Sammy was safe too.

"You damn idgit!" I heard Bobby exclaim from the kitchen as I sat at the top of the stairs listening the best I could. "That boy is only 10 years old and you treat him like he's an adult," he finished, him and my dad sat across from each other at the table sipping on a beer.

"I raise that boy like I have to" Dad responded with irritation. "He can't just go around playing games all day long, like you think he should, there's things out there that will hurt him if he's not careful. You need to stop treating him like a kid, he hasn't been a kid for many years now." Dad's reminder of how fast I had to grow up left a growing lump in my throat.

I always hated that I had to grow up so fast, but if it meant keeping Sammy safe, I would do it all over again if I had to. Dad always hated how Bobby would take me and Sam to the park for no other reason but to play. It wasn't for any hunting training, just for the soul purpose of being a kid. We always brought a football to play with, that was my personal favorite. Sammy liked to be pushed on the swings to see how high he could fly. "Faster Dean, faster" he would giggle out as his body would swing back into contact with my hands. I always loved to see my little brother smile. I loved to hear his innocent laughs.

"I'm taking the boys with me in the morning," Dad's voice broke my thoughts. "I have a job to do in Michigan" he continued.

"John! Can't you just let them stay a little longer?" Bobby pleaded.

"I. Said. I'm. Taking. My. Boys." Dad said in a slow, irritated voice.

"Fine!" Bobby said aggravated with the thought of him making us go on hunts. "But, at least leave Sam, he's too young and doesn't need to be exposed to everything out there yet."

I was thankful that Bobby was always looking out for Sammy too. It made the burden I often felt a little lighter when I knew he was trying to keep my little brother safe too. After a few angry words were exchanged, Dad agreed to allow Sam to stay with Bobby while we went on our hunt.

"He will just be in the way anyhow" Dad stated after the argument was over.

That man always had to have the last word no matter what the conversation was. I snuck back up the top 2 steps and into the room Sammy and I shared, before Dad and Bobby stood up and discovered I was listening. I laid beside Sammy, knowing I needed to get some sleep, I made sure he was covered, kissed his little forehead, thankful he was being allowed to stay, and closed my eyes.

Before I realized it was morning. Dad was in our room waking me with the rise of the sun.

"hmmm" I mumbled still half asleep.

"Keep quiet and don't wake Sam" Dad said quietly "we have a hunt to do and Sam is staying here with Bobby. Get up, I expect you in the car in 5" he demanded as he walked out the room.

I carefully slipped out of the bed and kissed Sammy on the head before grabbing my duffle bag and quietly walking down the stairs and out the front door, stopping only to relieve myself in the bathroom and grab a cereal bar off the counter. I sat quietly in the front seat of the impala as Dad drove us to the hunt he had found. I stared out the window.

I didn't even care what we were going to hunt. I had stopped questioning Dad's orders a couple years ago. I just did as he commanded without a thought. I hadn't realized how long we had been driving until the growl of my stomach caught my attention. The sun had started going down, but it was still plenty light outside.

"S…sir" I hesitated, not wanting to bother him, "can we stop for food… please?" I asked.

Dad looked at me like I had just asked him for a million dollars. As my stomach growled again he finally answered my request.

"fine" he said, "It's going to be a long night and you will need your strength anyhow" he finished as he pulled into a 24-hour diner.

We sat in a dark corner booth. The waitress wasn't very nice. She acted like we were bothering her by being there. We ordered 2 cheeseburgers with everything, 2 orders of fries and 2 cokes to wash it all down.

"Where are we going?" I finally got the nerve to ask between bites of my burger.

"Does it matter?" is all Dad replied.

"No, sir" I answered quickly, afraid to upset him.

We were going on a hunt, which usually means we are going into something dangerous, and the last thing I wanted to do was make my dad mad before facing something that might want to kill us.

"You finished yet, boy?" Dad asked with a scowl.

"yes sir," I said as I shoved the last bite of food into my mouth.

We stopped at the counter to pay then headed back down the road to our next stop.

When we finally arrived at our destination, the sun had gone completely down and darkness filled the skies. Dad informed me, as we pulled near our hunting grounds, that we were there to stop a man who had been possessed by a demon and had been killing the homeless in the town to supply himself with food. The thought of eating another human being made me shutter.

"So, what's the plan?" I asked as the car was put in park.

The soft roar of the engine turned off turning the already silent night even quieter. Dad had stepped out of the car and opened the trunk, pulling out the weapons he thought he would need. He closed the trunk without handing anything to me.

"What am I using?" I asked.

Dad looked down at me, a little discussed that I had even spoke. Obviously, he was irritated at more than just me. It didn't matter, I was used to being the one who he took all his frustration out on.

"You're the bait" Dad said without hesitation.

The bait? Doesn't the man eat his kill? What if something went wrong? What if I became food. The thought of this discussed me, but who was I to question my dad's orders.

It was a cold, dark night. Dad dug through the dumpster and dressed me in some torn up blue jeans and an old raggedy t-shirt with several small holes in the back and a big rip in the front. He smeared dirt on my face and in my hair. He finished up my costume by removing my boots and putting a pair of thin socks on my feet, socks with holes causing some of my toes and parts of feet to be exposed to the rough ground and cold air.

I sat on the corner of the dark alley, shivering from the cold, scared of what could come. Exposed to anyone who wanted to take advantage of a little boy. A few people walked by, laughing when they saw me, talking about how pathetic I was just sitting there, alone. No one cared. No one stopped to help. I wasn't even sure who I was looking for and what I was supposed to do if he approached me.

The next thing I knew, a nice dressed young man stood before me, he had his arm stretched out toward me, with a freshly wrapped cheeseburger in his hand. I looked up at him, a bit shocked, not sure what I was supposed to do.

"Take it." He said gently. "I know you've got to be hungry" he continued.

I was hungry, the stop at the diner earlier was the only food I had eaten all day. I grabbed the burger from the man and gobbled it down.

"Where you staying at boy?" the man asked.

I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Haven't seen you around these parts before" he stated the obvious.

"nnn…no sir," I said a bit nervous "I just found myself in this town this evening. Planning on moving on in the morning when it warms back up" I said, hoping he would believe me, but also hoping that would be the truth, that we would be leaving this town in the morning, going back to Sammy.

"You got any parents?" the man asked.

I shook my head as I replied, "no sir".

"Lemme give you a place to stay" the man replied, seeing the confusion and uncertainty in my eyes he continued "just for the night. Tomorrow morning you can continue on your way. I just don't like seeing kids out in the cold like this. I have a nice warm place you can stay, with a bed to sleep in, and food to eat. If you want" the man said in a calm reassuring voice.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I couldn't ask Dad. Maybe this was the man we were hunting? He seemed so nice, too nice to be a demon, I thought. But there was only one way to find out. I stood to my feet as he took my hand and we walked back to his place.

He lived in a small basement that had been converted into a 2-bedroom apartment. It had a small kitchen connected to a sitting area and one bathroom with a bedroom on either side of it. There was a fireplace that he already had a fire in, warming the place to a nice toasty warm feel. It sure felt a lot better than the harsh outside weather. He pointed to the bathroom.

"You can take a warm shower if you want, I'll bring you in some clean clothes to wear while I put yours in the washer" he said.

Thankful for the warmth and aching to get this dirt off me I agreed and stepped into the shower. The warm water felt good running down my body. I had wondered where Dad was, and if he would be mad at me for coming here. I would tell him it was the only way to find out if he was a demon, maybe that would keep me from being punished, I wondered. He didn't have to know about the warm shower and relaxing night I was sure I was going to have.

I heard the man walk into the bathroom, "here's some clean, warm clothes for you when you finish" he said.

I then heard the door close again. I finished cleaning myself and stepped out of the shower. While I was drying myself off I noticed the clothes the man had laid on the counter for me to put on. It was a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt with a pair of clean boxer shorts. My clothes were gone. I figured he had put them in to wash like he said he would. I put on the clothes he left. They hung loose on me. My small framed body looked even smaller in the oversized clothes. I stepped out of the room, feeling refreshed and a bit normal, my stomach growled as I smelled some home cooked food cooking in the pots on the stove.

"Supper will be ready in a few" the man said. "Have a seat, make yourself comfortable" he demanded as he fanned his hand over to the couch by the fireplace.

I hesitantly walked over to the sitting area and made myself a comfortable place to nest.

"Here you must be thirsty." the man said as he handed me a glass of water.

I was a bit thirsty and took the glass thanking him for the drink. I dazed off staring at the fire, brought back to reality when a bowl of the best smelling food was placed in front of me.

"Eat up" he said with a smile on his face. "It's the best tasting meat you'll ever have" he stated.

Meat? Meat! Oh, my goodness, what if he was the demon? What if he was trying to feed me human meat? The thought made me sick to my stomach. I almost spilled the bowl as I jumped up from the couch, placing the bowl on the counter, and running to the bathroom to empty what small amount of contents had been placed in it during the day.

"Not feeling so well?" the man asked, standing in the bathroom door watching me empty my stomach.

After catching my breath, "No sir" I replied. "I think I'm just tired," I stated as my eyes fought to stay open.

"Here, finish your glass of water." he said as he handed me the glass I had been sipping on since I arrived at his place.

I drank it all down in one big gulp. Hoping it would help settle my stomach.

"I'll go get you more, kid." he replied as he took the glass and headed back to the kitchen.

What was I doing? I began to wonder. Where am I? I thought to myself. I gathered myself, feeling a bit weak and sluggish, and half stumbled, half walked to the kitchen.

"Thank you, sir" I began, "but I really need to be heading out" I said. "I can't stay here" I finished, feeling my words begin to slur.

I woke in a room, as cold as the outdoors, possibly even colder. I laid on a freezing metal table with chains bound to my hands and feet. The smell was enough to make my stomach turn. As I opened my eyes I saw raw meat hanging on hooks in the room. Bodies, that appeared to once be human, skin removed down to the meat and bones. Panic set in as I could feel my heart beat faster and faster. Oh my God, I thought to myself. Had I screwed up again? I went with this man without Dad's permission.

Did he know where I was? Would he figure it out in time to save me? How the hell did I end up here? The drink! Was there something in the drink he gave me? Or perhaps the cheeseburger I first ate when he found me? I saw from the corner of my eye the man walking closer to me, something long and shiny glistering in his hands, I could only assume it was a knife. He was holding a knife and coming for me! I could no long control my breathing, I'm even sure I started a whimper that turned into a scream the closer he got….


	6. Chapter 6

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 6

I hadn't even realized I had fallen asleep until my own screams startled me awake. Sam must have fallen asleep too because he seemed just as startled as I was.

"DEAN!" he said with surprise and worry in his voice. "Dean, are you okay? What's going on?" he questioned.

Damn, was that just a dream? It seemed so real, how could I be sure? I know, I know it was a memory of what really happened, but it felt like it was happening at that very moment. My uncontrolled fear must have caused me to scream out loud, waking everyone in the room.

I wiped my face realizing I was dripping with sweat. I didn't realize my body was shaking until I tried to lift myself up with my arms into a seated position against the wall. Somehow, that wall had become a place of comfort for me. Much like the chair that sat at the table beside me. Trying hard to gather myself I ignored Sam's concern and his questions. Hell, I wasn't even sure if he was still talking or if he had gone quiet. My head felt like it was swimming, like I was expecting a knife to skin me alive at any moment.

I didn't even have a chance to apologize to Sammy before he was pushing the pen and paper in front of my face.

"Write" he said, "The doctor said you need to write when you get upset, and I think this is one of those times he was talking about".

How did my brother become so damn smart? Oh, yeah, he has always been the smart one, I forgot. I didn't even look up at him, didn't thank him. I just took the paper and pen and began to write my, all too real, dream on paper.

"Sammy," I said taking a short pause from writing, "how long have we been here? How long have we been stuck in this run-down room?" I really was curious as I had lost all track of time, but also was feeling the walls close in around me.

"Not long enough," Sam replied, "I think you've got some things you need to deal with and figure out before we move on, Dean" he paused then continued, "I could help, if you want, I could listen better than that notebook you've been writing in." Sam stopped when he saw the aggravation cover my face. Yes, I knew he could listen better but how would I even begin?

As I had approached the spot that woke me from my nightmare I continued to write.

"I'm gonna take it nice and slow on you boy" the man said. "I know who you are, you're one of those Winchester boys."

The man continued to speak as he walked closer, then I saw it, I saw his eyes turn black. I knew this was the man we were trying to stop. But how? How could I stop him alone? Tied to this table? He slowly put the tip of the knife to the side of my ribs. It felt like it had been in a freezer. That's when I noticed he had removed the clothes he gave me and I laid there in nothing but my boxer shorts. He sliced the knife down my side. As I grimaced in pain he laughed.

"I'm going to enjoy this" he said with a smile. "what'd you do? Get tired of Daddy and run away?"

Did he really believe me when I said I had no parents? That means he doesn't know Dad is here. He doesn't know I have help on the way. I just gotta hold on till he gets here.

He continued with another cut down my side, beside the previous one. He then moved the knife to my arm and slid it down from my shoulder to my elbow before stopping. And, again, he sliced another crimson line beside the one he had just carved into my arm. I moaned in pain with every sharp stab of the knife. He removed the knife from my skin and held it in front of my face.

"This here, this is my special knife," he started "it has carved more people than I could possibly keep count. And now, now it's going to carve a Winchester. How much luckier does one get?" he completed as he ran the sharp edge of the blade down the center of my chest.

He pressed deeper on that cut, it wasn't as easy to keep my moans quiet as I cried out in pain. Slice after slice, my body became numb. My mind was quick to follow in the numbness. I felt weak. My eyes closed in fear that I would vomit if they were open. I knew my fate. I knew I would be hanging on a hook, like the other bodies. I began to wonder if the others were a fast kill or if he took his time with them as well.

"Didn't your mom ever teach you not to play with your food" I said in the most sarcastic voice I could muster up.

I felt the handle to the blade he was holding come down hard against my temple.

"Oh, such a smart ass, are we?" he smirked, "how about I take that wise ass right out of you?" he continued.

"How about you leave the boy exactly the way he is." A familiar voice said in the distance.

Dad! It was Dad! He had found me, now he was going to save me. A sigh of relief filled my body, but that didn't help the weakness or the pain. But, at least my dad was here. If I died I wouldn't die alone. No matter how many hard times we had I knew he has always loved me. I heard my dad say some gibberish I couldn't understand. I'm sure it was in a different language. But the demon didn't seem to like it any. In fact, it seemed to cause it pain. Physical pain, not like the pain that's usually caused by someone's hurtful words. Screeching screams began to come from the demon. I opened my eyes just enough to see what looked like thick, black smoke coming out of the demon's mouth. When the smoke was gone the man collapsed to the ground. I wasn't sure if he was even still alive.

"Let's get you out of here" Dad said and he started to undo the chains that held me to the cold, metal table.

I was too weak, too tired, too drugged to even speak a word. I couldn't even express the pain he was causing as he picked me up from the table and carried me to the car. I'm sure he knew by the expressions on my face, but I'm not sure he cared. I passed out in the back seat, listening to the purr of the engine.

"Get up Dean." Dad said as he stood at the opened car door.

I wasn't sure where we were at until I felt a familiar touch help me out of the car. Dad on one side, and Bobby on the other, helping me into Bobby's house. I was too weak to walk on my own. I wasn't sure why. I'm sure I should have known why but I couldn't get my brain to work properly. They gently laid me on the couch.

"Damn it, John! You drove a long way with the boy in this condition, you could have killed him. Why didn't you stop somewhere along the way and get him help?"

Bobby asked without even stopping what he was doing or looking away from me. He had his first aid kit out and was bandaging me up. I hardly even felt it when he started to stitch the deep cuts. I suppose my body was used to the pain by then.

"He's lost a lot of blood" Bobby continued, after he finished with the bandages and stitches. "You have to give him time to heal and get his strength back." Bobby said while staring Dad directly in his eyes to make sure he understood completely.

I could feel my eyes drifting open and closed until I lost the fight and once they closed I was unable to open them again. I could still hear some faint talking but soon that faded out as well. According to what I was told I didn't wake up until 2 days later.

I had stopped writing, still sitting in the same spot leaned against the wall. "Do you remember that Sammy?" I had asked out loud as if he knew what I had just written.

"Remember what Dean?"

"When that demon tried to turn me into meat." I continued, "I'm not even sure Dad cared, just as long as we killed the demon, he didn't care if it killed me or not. I was too much of a burden and always screwed his perfect hunts up."

I paused only long enough to draw in a long breath, even though I knew that wasn't completely true, that Dad cared about us in his own way, I continued "I wasn't the son he wanted me to be, I wasn't as perfect as you were. You were always the brain of it all, you've always had a good head on your shoulders. The only thing I've ever been good at is almost getting myself, and everyone else, killed."

Another long inhale, this time followed by a short moment of silence. "I wish he hadn't come so soon." I said with my head lowered and eyes filled with unshed tears that I was fighting to hold back.

"What?" Sam asked. This seemed to be a normal question for Sammy over the past few days.

"The night the demon wanted to make me his food, if Dad would have only waited a little longer…" my statement trailed off into words no one could hear and eventually complete silence.

"I'm so tired Sam." I said frustrated. "Why am I so tired?" I asked as I pushed myself back down on the bed into a laying position. "I... I…. just can't…. I can't anymore…. Sammy…. Help me… please…."

God, I had hoped he didn't hear those last words I had said before my body and mind slipped back into darkness. If I was the praying type, I would have prayed hard for no more nightmares, but somehow, I didn't think I would be so lucky. The walls, the memories, my life, the world, the road, it was all collapsing around me. I felt so lost and didn't know what to do, the only person I ever had was my Sammy, but I had too much pride to ask him to keep it all from crushing me, or maybe I just needed to continue to protect him from what the life we lived really left behind.


	7. Chapter 7

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 7

I slowly opened my eyes, again. Damn, why can't I seem to stay awake. What day is it? What time is it? I wasn't even completely sure what town we were in anymore. I blinked a few times to let my eyes adjust to the dim lighting in the room. My body ached. I'm sure it's from lying in bed for so long. I just didn't seem to have the energy to move much. Even when I did move, I felt sluggish and slow. I looked over and saw Sammy sitting on his bed reading some geeky book.

"I'm hungry Sam" I broke the silence of the room. He must not have noticed I was awake because my voice startled him as he jerked his head to look at me.

"Well I would hope so." His reply seemed to state an obvious, one that I had clearly missed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dean you've been asleep for almost 3 days." Sam said in concern.

What? What did he mean 3 days? He must have been joking with me! "I need a shower, I'm sure you can smell me over there, unless that's your dirty socks I smell." I said with a smirk.

"No, it's you." Sam joked back. "I'll go get you some food while you get that stink off." Sam said and he sat up and started putting his boots on.

The warm water felt good against my skin. Had I really been asleep for 3 days? What the hell was going on with me? Its official! I've completely gone bananas I thought to myself in a bit of disgust. I wasn't expecting Sam to be back so soon. I had forgot my clean clothes in my bag so I walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist to gather my clothes. I was startled to see him standing in the room.

Shame and embarrassment filled me for the first time. Sam and I have done a lot of traveling together and there's nothing we haven't seen of each other so why was I feeling this way now? Why did I have an overwhelming need to cover every inch of my body? Sam must have realized my feelings and embarrassment because without saying a word he turned his back to me and sat the food on the nightstand between the two beds.

After I came out of the bathroom, dressed, I sat on the edge of the bed facing Sammy, who was sitting on the edge of his bed. We both ate in silence. Once Sam had finished his food he started to talk,

"I know he wasn't perfect,"

"Who?"

"Dad, I know he was never perfect. You asked me what I knew about him. I know he was a drunk, and a dedicated hunter, more dedicated than being a father. But, I know he cared about both of us, in his own way. He had his moments where he was the most hateful son of a bitch alive, especially to you, Dean. I know he pushed you harder than you should have been pushed. He trained you to be his good little soldier and to never disobey or question his commands. I also know you hate it when I say that, but it's true, he taught you to do everything he demanded, even if it meant you would be in danger. Which happened a lot."

He stopped for a minute to let me process what he had just said, then he continued. "I remember that night." he said with a hint of childishness in his voice. "I remember when Dad came running into Bobby's house yelling for him to help. It woke me up. I sat at the top of the stairs, I don't think they knew I was there, if they did then they didn't care. I watched them drag your body in and lay you on the couch. You were covered in blood. I prayed it wasn't your blood, but it was. You had cuts and gashes all over your body. You were wearing nothing but your boxer shorts."

He took another pause, this time he had my full attention as I listened to what he had to say, wide eyed. "Bobby saved your life that night. I'm certain you would have died. Bobby was certain you would have died. He said you lost so much blood he wasn't sure how you were even still breathing. He worked faster than I ever saw him work on someone. He stopped the bleeding and had you stitched up in record time."

Another pause for him to catch up to his thoughts and as he took a long breath he continued "I'm not sure if you were awake or not but Bobby laid into Dad, knocked him halfway across the room. To be honest I think the way they were yelling scared me more than seeing your lifeless body lying on the couch."

I could tell he was really starting to reminisce on every little detail of that night. I didn't want him to remember so many details. I didn't want my little brother to remember anything bad, but I needed to know. I needed to know that Bobby stood up for me. That at least someone cared enough to save me. I needed to know that I still had family who looked out for me.

"You laid on the couch, without moving for 2 whole days," Sam continued "I remember I kept asking Bobby if you were still alive, every time he would reassure me you were. I always looked up to you, Dean. I always saw you larger than life, but while you laid there, for the first time, you looked so small and frail. I don't think I was so happy as the moment you finally opened your eyes again. I knew you were hurt, hurt bad, you were in a lot of pain, too much for you to completely hide. But, I was still happy to see your eyes opened. I knew that meant you were getting better. I don't know if you remember or not, but I ran up to you and gave you the biggest hug I possibly could. Bobby pulled me off of you. I hadn't even realized you started moaning in pain, I didn't mean to hurt you worse, I just wanted to know you were still there, and for you to know I was still there. Dean, I don't know what I would have done without you."

He continued "I would have been lost without my big brother taking care of me." He paused for a moment with a sigh "I just want to be able to return the favor. Dean, you took care of me your whole life. You protected me, you kept me as safe as you could. When I would get scared you always let me sleep next to you with our bodies wrapped together. When I woke with nightmares you were always there to hold me and remind me everything was going to be okay and that my big brother was there to keep me safe. You were always my shoulder to cry on."

By this time, he was finding it hard to speak with the tears that were flowing from his eyes. I couldn't stop him. I couldn't interrupt what he was saying, not because I wanted him to continue, but because I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to reply to his cries. I had always known what to do to help my little brother, but hell, right now I didn't even know how to help myself. I had to say something, this silence was getting too long, even though it had only lasted a few seconds.

I cleared my throat the best I could, "Sammy" half squeaked out of my mouth.

"Dean," Sam interrupted. "I know this life isn't easy. I know you have seen horrors I could never imagine, but I'm not a kid anymore" that was for sure, he wasn't a kid anymore. He stood taller than I did and had the brains of a genius. "Please, Dean, please let me help you, or at least try. I've watched you suffer long enough, and to be honest I've handled about all of it that I can. I've sat back and given you your space, but I just can't sit back anymore. I have to do something."

He stopped with that. I was clueless on what to say. I was clueless on what to do. I just sat there, head hanging so low my chin was almost touching my chest. Tears dripping from my eyes that I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. I held my own hands in my lap, partly for comfort, and partly as an attempt to stop them from shaking.

"What can I do?" Sam broke the long silence after watching me for a moment, "how can I help you, Dean?" he asked with every ounce of sincerity he had in his body, with every hope that I would allow him to help in anyway, even if it seemed small, he just wanted to help his big brother for a change.

"I…." I stopped, unsure of what to say. "I d.. I don't know, Sammy. I don't know anything anymore" I managed to get the words out through the tears. "I can't do this anymore. I can't feel broken." I sat there for a moment then with a desperation, "give me back my gun."

"WHAT!" Sammy said a bit confused and shocked.

"If you want to help me," I continued, "give me back my gun…please".


	8. Chapter 8

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 8

Silence. The silence that filled the air pierced my heart worse than a knife. This tightness in my chest, it was worse than a heart attack. I know, I've had one before. Sammy saved me from that. That damn kid has been saving me more than I realized. I was finding it harder to breathe with every breath I inhaled, leaving my chest feeling tighter and tighter. My brain was foggy. I felt like I couldn't even think straight, or think at all for that matter, obviously. I was getting aggravated that Sammy was still sitting there. Aggravated that I couldn't shake this feeling. Aggravated that I was the lowest, worst person in the world at this moment. Hell, if my brother wasn't going to give my gun back I would just get another one.

As I stood and walked toward the weapon bag, I hadn't realized Sam had jumped off his bed and followed me across the room. Unexpected, I was pushed against the wall and held with a grip I didn't know my brother was capable of.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam, half yelling, asked me. "You can't do this Dean, you can't give into these feelings. Everything we have been through. Every monster we fought, every life we saved, every tear we cried and every laugh we laughed, it meant something, it still means something. I know the life we live isn't easy. I know we were pushed into it, we weren't given an option, no one asked us if we wanted to live on the road, hunting things, saving people. It's just the family business. It's the way we were taught. The way we have survived. Dean, no matter what either of us have faced, we NEVER gave up! We always keep fighting. That's the only way to survive. The only way to survive any life that anyone is given, is to fight for it!"

Damn, when did my brother become so wise? He must have inherited that from Mom's side of the family because he sure as hell didn't get that kind of wisdom from me.

He continued, as he loosened his grip holding me against the wall, "there is so much to fight for, so much to live for. I know sometimes it's hard to see that, but, Dean, trust me, please, there's always something, or someone, worth fighting for."

He had lost the aggravation in his voice and flooded the room with love and compassion, honesty. I'm not sure we have had such an honest moment in a long while.

"What?" I asked with tears falling "What is there to live for, Sam? What is worth fighting for anymore? I'm just so tired of fighting. I feel so weak."

I couldn't believe I was admitting my weakness to my little brother. I continued after drawing in a deep breath, Sam's grip had completely let go of me as I slid down the wall. There I sat, on the floor, back against the wall, knees pulled to my chest, tears dripping from eyes.

"Sammy, I don't know if I can keep doing this, keep holding myself up. I feel… I feel like such a failure. I've failed at everything. I've failed at life, I've failed as a hunter. I've failed at being a son, and I've failed at being your brother."

I couldn't speak anymore after that. The lump in my throat felt like it was keeping any other words from exiting.

"Then let me hold you up." Sam replied "Lean on me. That's what brothers are for. You and me, we are in this thing together. You haven't failed me, Dean, and you never will. You're all I've ever had. You're worth fighting for, I'm worth fighting for. And if that's the only thing we have to fight for, well, then that's enough for me." He paused for a moment to wipe the tears from his face.

More wisdom, I still don't know where he got it from. There we sat. on the floor of some dirty motel room. Me curled against the wall and Sam sitting at my feet. I looked up, not even caring to wipe the tears from my soaked face. My eyes locked onto his. Here was my brother. The baby I took care of, all grown up. I hadn't realized until that point but he had become my rock. He truly was the only thing that kept me fighting at times. He was just as much my savior as I was his.

"I'm sorry, Sammy" I managed to sob out. "I'm so sorry".

I'm sorry seemed like the only words I could get to come out. I'm sure I repeated it a few more times before he stopped me. He hadn't spoken to stop my babbling. He just simply placed a gentle hand on my knee, as to say, "I know". I wasn't sure what to do or say. I was never good at these mushy, chick flick moments. Usually, I would just hide my pain with some sarcastic remark. But, I couldn't even think of one sarcastic thing to say. I knew I really needed this moment. This school girl moment. This moment my brother was allowing me to openly express myself and release everything that had been bottled up for so long.

"I need a drink" I had finally said, breaking the silence. I glanced up as Sam just in time to see his eyes roll.

"Seriously Dean?" he asked with irritation.

"Yeah, I need to get out of this hell hole, get some fresh air." As I stood and started for the door I had noticed Sammy was right behind me. "Alone." I said as I turned to look at him, hoping he would understand I just needed a moment to myself.

"Fine, do whatever your little heart desires." I knew he was aggravated with me but I couldn't help it. As I started to walk out the door he added "just come back Dean, please". Damn, another hint of wisdom from the kid. I closed the door behind me.

I had decided to walk to the liquor store. It was only a half a mile away and I needed to stretch my legs and have some time to breathe some fresh air, and think. Once inside the store I couldn't decide on what to get so I grabbed a few different bottles. Paid the clerk with one of my bogus credit cards, and walked out of the store with a large paper bag in hand.

The bottles inside the bag clinked together as I walked. I reached in, pulled out one of the bottles and opened it. I might as well enjoy the walk back before returning to Sammy, I thought to myself. I had finished the bottle I opened before reaching the motel, so I opened another bottle and started on it. When I walked into the room Sam sat in the chair, waiting for my return.

"Feel better?"

"Yes, thank you." I answered with the old sarcasm I was used to. Obviously, I was already a little drunk, not so much that I couldn't walk straight, but enough I was feeling like my old self again. "I feel like I could run a marathon." I announced to Sam as I stood in the middle of the room stretching my body.

"Glad to see Dad's lessons haven't lost their effects." Sam said irritated that I had went from feeling suicidal to being myself again so quickly.

I let out a loud sigh, "damn, Sam." I said with a little chuckle "that rhymed" I said out loud, amused at myself.

"I know Dad was tired." Sam started, "I know he was overwhelmed with the hunting and raising us the way he did, that's why he drunk so much, I get it okay. I understand." He continued, "I always hated that side of him, I think that's why we fought so much. But then again, there was a lot I hated about him."

Letting out a sigh, as I sat on the bed, I allowed him to continue saying what he needed to say.

"Obviously, he taught you how to swallow your sorrows too! I know he wasn't always the nicest. I know he hurt you, Dean." A bit shocked at that statement I still didn't have the heart to stop him from talking. "There were times you thought I was asleep, but I wasn't. There were times Dad would wake me up in one of his drunken rages." Sam paused to wipe the tears from his eyes. "You don't think I didn't see the bruises?" he asked looking up at me.

I wasn't sure how to respond, or if I should. The pause, the silence, was like a heavy cloud filling my head, filling my heart.

"Do you remember," Sam started again, "when I was little, must have been about 8, maybe 9, and I wanted a bowl of cereal? You were busy doing something, I'm not even sure what it was, but you told me to wait until you finished. I got so mad! I decided to make a bowl of cereal by myself."

"Yeah, I remember."

"You got upset at me, telling me I wasn't big enough. I wanted to prove you wrong, I wanted to show you I was as big as you were. I didn't realize how heavy a full gallon of milk was. I ended up pouring the whole gallon over my bowl and on the table when it slipped out of my hand. You got upset at me but never lost your temper."

Again, he stopped to wipe his face dry and continued "Dad walked in the room and saw you trying to clean it up. He got so furious! You didn't even hesitate, you didn't even give him time to ask what happened. You dropped the towel, stood up straight and told him you had done it. That the gallon slipped out of your hand and you spilled it. He told you to go to his room, didn't have to explain why. You pushed the bowl of cereal at me and told me to eat up, you said you would clean up the mess when you got back. The mess. The mess that I made, not you."

I couldn't believe he was remembering this day, yes, I remembered it well, but it should have been just a regular day in the mind of Sammy.

"I know why you had to go 'talk' to him in his room Dean." Sam continued, his voice a little lower and shaking. "I got up from the table and went to the door of the room. I heard him yelling at you. I may not have been very familiar with hunting yet, but I knew the sound of a hand slapping against someone. I heard you ask him not to use his belt, practically begging him, saying that you wouldn't do it again. But," Sam paused to take a breath and gather himself, "well, you can't mistake the sound of Dad's belt hitting bare skin either." He finished.

The heavy cloud in the air was still there. Just sitting above my head, filling my body. I hadn't realized I finished my bottle while he was talking. I stood, in complete silence, threw my bottle in the trash and opened the next bottle of liquor I had purchased.

"Dean" Sam said in a childish voice.

"Yeah?" I replied after taking a long gulp from my bottle.

"You let Dad punish you over something I did. You could barely even walk when you came out of his room. You sure as hell wouldn't sit down the rest of the night, don't think I didn't notice those times, more than just that night." he said. "You… you did that for me," he sighed.

His words came down on me like a ton of bricks. Had he just realized I had done this for him? Had he just realized I would do anything to keep him safe? Even if it meant I got hurt?

"Yeah" I replied as I sat back on the bed, liquid courage running through my veins. "Sam, I did a lot to keep you safe from our old man." I said, hardly believing I was admitting it to him. "I always took the punishments, even the ones you should have gotten. I think he knew if he laid a hand on you I would put him six feet under." I stated, taking another large gulp of my liquid courage.

"I didn't know." Sam said while I was swallowing. "I didn't know you were punished for me."

"Doesn't matter. I would do anything to keep my annoying, little brother safe." I completed flashing him a small smile to say "I love you" without words.

Sam hung his head down low, now he was lost in his thoughts like I had been for so many days, finally, in a low, shameful voice he admitted, "and I left you to deal with him on your own." He was beginning to feel guilty for leaving for college. I could almost hear the guilt for every wrong thing he had ever done in his voice.

"Hey, look at me," I waited for Sam to raise his head and look into my face. "The only thing I ever wanted was for you to be happy. If leaving made you happy, well then, that's all I can ask for. Dad was so pissed when you left."

I stopped… I couldn't believe I had just said that. There was no way I was getting into that conversation with him, no matter how drunk I was. Sam looked at me with a mixture of acknowledgement and curiosity.

"NO, no Sammy, I am not getting into that conversation with you, not right now, not tonight" I announced as I made my way to the bathroom and relieved myself at the toilet, not even bothering to close the door. "Dad and I built a stronger relationship when it was just me and him, all we had was each other. And don't for once think we ever let you completely be alone" I added.

"I'm feeling good Sam" I continued as I walked back into the room. "I feel like myself again. Please." I couldn't believe I was pleading, "please let me have this one moment, this one night, to feel like myself again."

"Fine," Sammy agreed, knowing that I may not be so opened to talking in the morning. "But," he continued, "I'm not done. Please Dean, I want to talk about this more. I'll give you tonight but don't expect me to give in so easily in the morning, besides my emotions have me drained, and its late, I'm tired." He continued, "good night Dean, I'm going to sleep now, I'm glad you're feeling better." He said as he laid under his covers in his bed and drifted to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 9

I had woken before Sammy the next morning. I decided to look through the media on his laptop while he slept. "Mornin' Sammy" I said as he began to move around and eventually stretch himself to a seated position. "Sleep good?" I asked.

"Dean, what are you doing?" he asked confused and surprised to see me up and out of bed.

"I'm looking to see if there's anything interesting going on in the world." I said, knowing I was really looking to see if there was anything we could hunt nearby. Sammy knew it too.

"There's not." he said as he walked to the bathroom to do his morning business. As he came out of the bathroom to gather his clothes and personal items to ready himself for another day he said, with a hint of annoyance, "you're up awful early, and seem to be in a good mood this morning".

I just nodded my head without removing my eyes from the computer screen. "Go get cleaned up, Sammy, and we'll go grab us some breakfast, I'm hungry." I knew that's exactly what his plans were already, so there really wasn't any need to announce it.

Once Sammy had finished prepping in front of the mirror we walked to the diner for some food.

"How long have we been here Sammy?" Not giving him time to answer I continued, "we haven't even taken notice of this little town we've been staying in. I visited the local bar while you slept last night. The girls, shewww, the girls in this town!" I didn't have to finish my sentence; the wiggle of my eyebrows gave Sam all the information he needed to know. "It's been awhile since Baby got to see some action."

I finished as we opened the door to the diner. We sat in a corner booth, I ordered enough food for two and Sammy had his regular healthy choice breakfast. No wonder that kid is so skinny, he doesn't eat the good stuff, I thought to myself as I gobbled down my food, feeling like I haven't eaten in a week.

After we finished eating, and I had finished flirting with the waitress, we walked back to the room that had brought so much darkness down on me. This time as I walked in, I didn't feel the heaviness that had restrained me for so many days. Sam, on the other hand, he didn't have to speak a word, his actions were enough to kill any good buzz I still had going on.

"Damn it, Sammy," I said a little angrier than I meant to "you're enough to kill anyone's good mood". Okay, that did not come out the way I wanted I thought to myself as Sammy glared up at me with anger in his eyes.

"I'm soooo sorry Dean! I'm sorry I don't know how to go from here" he placed his hand as low to the ground as he could, "to here," raising his hand up as high as he could reach, "in 5.2 seconds." Yeah okay, I admit I had a huge change in personality over the night, but I thought that was a good thing. "I guess I didn't get that lesson from Dad." Sam added.

Why? Why did he have to start this when I was feeling so good? "What lesson is that?" I asked with a sigh as I sat on the edge of the bed, expecting this to turn into one of his chick flick moments. As he picked up a bottle of booze I had finished off last night to dispose of it in the trash, he shook it in front of me with a sarcastic look on his face.

"This lesson." he said. "The lesson that anytime you feel any type of feelings at all, the moment you think you just might be human, you drink it all away. The lesson that you have to pretend to be invincible, emotionless."

Here we go, it was way too early for this crap but I guess I had put him through enough lately that I at least owed him this conversation. "Yeah," I agreed, "the best lesson he could have taught me." I added. "Sammy, you have to understand, it's not that I don't know I have feelings, it's not that I'm trying to pretend I'm not human. It's just that, well, if you let your emotions get the best of you, like I have the past, what week or so? In this job, the work we do, that can get you killed."

I paused, hoping he understood, but knowing it wasn't enough to satisfy him. I closed my eyes for a long blink accompanied by a sigh, "yeah, Dad didn't like to admit he had feelings, maybe that's why he was so hard on us? Because, if he showed us any love at all then that would be showing feeling. I don't know Sam. I know Dad had a hard time facing things in life, dealing with everything. Plus, we weren't exactly model kids, you know? We got into our own mischief, created our own problems for ourselves, and dad. It's not like there was an instruction booklet on how to live the life of a hunter with 2 small boys."

I pulled my hand up and wiped it down my face, stopping it over my mouth as I took a moment to think of the right words to say. "Do you know when I had my first drink?"

"No."

"When I was 10 years old. I'm sure Dad was drunk, but he was also lonely, and sad. You went to bed, sound asleep, you never had any problem sleeping through anything," I chuckled a little as I remembered how jealous I would be that he could sleep so well. "Dad was sitting at the table with a large bottle of whiskey" I continued. "He told me to come sit down with him, so of course, I did. He poured me a glass of whiskey and told me to 'drink up'. Honestly, I wasn't sure if he was serious or not, but who was I to question one of Dad's commands? So, I did. And we sat there half the night while he talked about some of the horrors he had seen and the things he had to do that haunted him. He talked about how much he wished we could all go back to life before Mom died. He cried, yes he actually cried, Sammy, telling me how much he missed her, how much he wanted her back."

I stopped for a moment to wipe my eyes before the tears filling them slipped out. "He kept filling my glass every time he would fill his. He told me that was how he could stay so strong, to stay alive, no matter what he faced. He told me a good bottle of whiskey would fix anything, even a broken heart. He also told me to never, no matter what I did, ever allow my emotions to get the best of me. That I needed to just push everything I ever felt away, that if I didn't I would end up getting myself killed."

I was done, I couldn't talk about that anymore. I had hoped that Sammy understood a little better now. That maybe in some weird way he wouldn't get so upset at me when I drank to drown my sorrows. Once I had regained my composure I looked up at Sam. His eyes watered up but not yet falling. His eyebrows wrinkled up. His lips held tightly closed. I wasn't sure what was going through that kid's mind, but it couldn't be good. Maybe he was just processing what I had just said? Maybe I just avoided some school girl chick flick moment? But, he had never been this quiet for this long before. Great! I thought to myself. We are just going to end up in another conversation I don't want to have. Damn, I need a drink.

"What Sammy?" I finally broke the silence. I moved my body so I was in a more comfortable position with the wall supporting my back. I knew we were going to be here awhile.

"I hated Dad drinking," Sam said quietly, "honestly, sometimes when you get as drunk as you do, I get mad." Wow that was a shocker I thought sarcastically to myself, but allowed him to continue, "I don't get mad at you as much as I get mad at myself. I mean, I don't know Dean, I know this is going to sound crazy." He paused.

I tried to lighten the mood "you're my little brother, I already think you're crazy."

I saw a small smirk form on Sam's face before he continued what he was trying to say. "I get scared." He admitted, "I know, crazy, right? I know I haven't seen Dad as drunk as you have. I know I haven't dealt with his violence like you did, but…"

he paused to draw in a long deep breathe. "He's… he has… umm… he came home one night," he finally started to get the words out as he stumbled all over them. "You weren't home, I'm not even sure where you were. Maybe went to the store or something? I know you weren't gone long. Dad came home in one of his drunken, unable to walk straight, states. I guess I didn't do as good of a job as you did by helping him to the bed and taking care of him. I tried, Dean. I knew he was strong, but I didn't realize how hard of a punch that man had."

He paused as he could see my face turn red with anger. "Dean, please, don't get mad, okay?"

I drew in a long breath and allowed him to continue.

"He punched me on the side of my head. I fell to the ground, he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me back to a standing position. I didn't even realize I was crying but he started to yell at me, telling me to stop crying. That he taught me better than that. Then, he slapped me across the face as he released his grip, letting me fall on the bed beside me. It only took him a moment to realize what he had done. He began to apologize and begged me not to tell you. 'Don't tell your brother, please Sam, it won't happen again, I promise' he begged. So, I agreed, until now I guess."

He sat with his head hung low, he added "sometimes I get scared when you drink the way you do, I know I'm not a little kid anymore, but those memories come up and there's times I just wait for that part of Dad to come out. You're so much like him I often wonder when you'll follow in his footsteps in that way too." He sadly admitted.

I was speechless, absolutely speechless! "I… I will NEVER… Sam, Dad was a bastard." I couldn't believe I had just called my own dad a bastard. "He was hateful at times, but he also loved us, you have to know that, he did. No matter what bad things he may have done, he still loved us."

Great! Here comes the water works, I shook my head, tired of all the tears, where did they all come from anyhow? I chuckled a little as I sat and thought then admitted, "he did carry one hell of a punch." I was a little irritated that Sam hadn't told me about that night before, but then again there's a lot I haven't told him.

After sitting in the silence, both of us thinking of what to say next, Sam got his nerves built up enough to ask me the one thing I had tried to avoid talking about. The one thing I didn't want anyone knowing about. The one thing that could push me past my breaking point.

"What happened the night I left for college?"

God, why did he have to ask this again? Didn't he catch the hint when I told him I didn't want to talk about it before? I wasn't sure how to answer that. I wasn't sure if I should answer that.

"Sam," I said slow, careful to make sure he understood what I was saying, "you have to understand, nothing that happened… the way Dad reacted to you leaving… none of it was your fault."

I paused, hoping he really did understand that. "I know life on the road can be hard" I continued, "I don't blame you at all for wanting to get away. I didn't blame you that night either. Honestly, I was a little shocked, but I could understand, that's why I didn't try to stop you." I paused to wipe my eyes, once again.

"So, what happened?"

"He went on a drinking binge" I said. God, I had hoped that would have been good enough, but I knew Sammy, and I knew he wouldn't be satisfied with that answer.

"And?"

"And… he got drunk,"

"DEAN!"

"Sam, I don't know if I can do this." I said in all honesty. "I'm not sure what to say here."

"How about the truth?"

"Okay," I said hesitantly, "the truth is he did go on a drinking binge. I don't know how long he was gone, I don't know how much he drunk, I don't even know how much it costed. Doesn't matter. He didn't pay for it anyhow."

I hadn't realized while I was talking I had pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my arms across my knees, laying my head on my arms. Almost as if I was trying to become invisible. I just wanted to shrink away and disappear. But I needed to say this, or at least try to say it, as much as Sam needed to hear it.

"What do you mean he didn't pay for it?"

"He didn't pay for it," I said, a little anger in my voice, anger I didn't know was there, "I did! I did, Sammy, okay? I paid for Dad's drunken night!" I

had to stop talking before I really did get upset. I thought I was "over it" I didn't think it would bother me as much as it was. And this anger, where did this anger come from? God, I needed a drink, bad!

"I can't Sammy, I'm sorry, I can't. I need a drink"

I said as I pushed myself out of the fetal position and onto my feet. Why did I have to glance over at my brother? His sad, puppy dog eyes, filled with watering tears. He knew I was hurting. My hurting was making him hurt. I would do anything to make him feel better. Anything. I sighed as I sat back on the bed.

"How about we walk to the liquor store together?" Sam said. I was shocked that he had suggested that, especially after he had talked about how much he hated me drinking. "I could use a beer myself" he said. I smirked, that's my brother I thought. "But," Sam added, only to get some fresh air and clear our heads, don't for once think this conversation is over."

"Whatever, Sammy" I said nudging my shoulder against his. I knew he was right, it wasn't over, we obviously had a lot to talk about, but for this moment I was going to enjoy the company of my little brother, just the way it's always been.


	10. Chapter 10

**WARNING: this chapter contains details on the night Sam left for college, may be triggering to some, read at your own risk.**

 **CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 10

Our intention was to walk to the liquor store and back, but we took a slight detour at the local bar. There wasn't much happening there so after a few drinks we decided to leave and follow our original plan. I ended up buying twice as much liquor as the night before, of course Sam helped pick some out too, plus we already had some drinks in us from the bar. We were both feeling pretty good, to say the least.

During our walk back to the motel I saw a glimpse of the crazy, weird little brother of mine. We laughed at every silly thing we noticed. Hell, we noticed things we never would have before. I thought I was going to laugh until I cried when Sam tripped over a rock, skinning up his knee. He didn't find that as amusing as I did.

Oh, why couldn't these moments last forever? As we approached the door to our room, and Baby. I said "why don't we just run away, Sammy? Just you, me and Baby, living wild and free, enjoying life on the road." We stumbled into the room laughing so hard at that, because well, that's how we lived everyday of our lives.

"I'm not even sure why people bother with glasses," I announced as I pulled a bottle from the bag, cracked it open, and took a big gulp straight from the bottle.

Before I had realized it, I had guzzled that litter down and cracked open another one on my way to relieve myself in the bathroom. Satisfied with the buzz and the taste of my whiskey, I grabbed another bottle to have beside me just in case, kicked off my boots, sat the unopened bottle on the nightstand beside me and laid back to relax. I wondered why these things didn't come in a gallon size, guess that would make it harder to drink from, I had concluded, amused at my own thoughts sometimes. Sammy was a slower drinker than I was. As I reached over to grab my 3rd bottle of whiskey Sam was only on his second bottle of beer. That kid needs to lighten up and enjoy life some, I thought to myself as I cracked open my new bottle.

"Is this the kind of drunken binge you were talking about?" Sam asked

"Yep, mood killer!" I said, not speaking to anyone, just stating the obvious as I pushed myself from a relaxing position to sitting up against the wall again. "No, Sammy" I said as I lifted my bottle in the air, "this would require him to stay in the room, like I am right now, which he didn't. I don't think he would have been able to handle it. But, somehow I was expected to…"

I lowered my bottle and took a long big drink. This was going to require as much liquid courage as I could put into myself right now. "You want the truth, Sammy?" all joking left my voice leaving only complete seriousness. "The truth is, after you left that night, Dad went to get drunk at the bar. He met a couple guys while he was there. I don't know all the details, I wasn't there. But, he traded his bar tab to them." I stopped to take another long drink. When had my hands started shaking? And, why did I keep finding myself curling up into a seated fetal position? I knew I couldn't shrink away. I've tried, it didn't work.

"For what?" Sam asked. "What did he trade his bar tab for?"

"For me." I said with no emotion in my voice, just simply stating the facts. "He traded it for me". I repeated. I couldn't look at Sammy. I didn't want to see his eyes, his facial expressions, I could read that kid like a book sometimes, and right now I knew would be one of those times.

"Uh," the silence was broken, followed by Sammy clearing his throat. "wh… what do you mean for you?" he asked with a hint of fear in his voice. Fear to ask the question. Fear that what he was thinking might be right. But, mostly, fear to hear the answer.

After taking a long drink, finishing the bottle in my hand, I stared straight forward, still no emotion in my voice. "He told me the only thing I was good for was a good night on the town. And, and these 'gentlemen' were going to give him the best night he could imagine."

Rage started to build up inside me as I launched the empty bottle in my hands across the room, smashing it against the wall. Leaving little pieces of glass falling to the floor. This time with rage in my voice "Sammy, he told me this, he… said I was worthless and that they were going to pay for anything he wanted. All they wanted was worthless me while he was out. He… he was telling me this while he was tightening ropes around my wrists, to the bed posts. He…. He…. Damn it! I know I deserved to be punished. You were my responsibility and I let you walk out that door without even stopping you. But, I didn't deserve this! I didn't deserve the punishment he gave me!" I had stopped for a moment, finding it hard to talk through the anger and tears.

Sam sat quiet, letting me say what needed to be said uninterrupted. At some point he had even gotten up and retrieved me another bottle of whiskey, opening it and handing it to me. He must have known how hard this was for me. After collecting myself and taking another drink, I continued.

"He knew I wouldn't disobey him." I said reminiscing on that night. "He told me to undress, before he tied my hands down. I didn't even question him, Sam. I didn't even tell him no or fight him. I just did what he commanded. How stupid was I? I was old enough to know better. I may not have the brains like you do, but I was smart enough to know where it was leading to. I…. I. allowed…. Damn it Sammy, I allowed this to happen. It's my fault!"

After calming myself down for a moment I continued, "Dad told me, more than once, that I deserved every bad thing that ever happens to me. This… this was no exception. I know I deserved it, Sammy, I'm nothing but a screw up. I fail at everything I do." as I stopped to take a breath Sam chimed in for the first time.

"You didn't fail at me" he said, completely sincere. "I turned out alright" he added.

"Yeah, yeah you did." I agreed with a slight smile. As I was wiping my face, trying to dry the tears that had soaked it.

"Dean?"

"Yeah" I still couldn't manage to look at him.

"How many?"

"How many what, Sam?"

"How many, you know, that night? How many did, did Dad trade for? Trade you for? How… how bad was it?"

"How do I answer that, Sammy? How many? I'm not totally sure, I'm not even sure I stayed conscious the whole time. 5, maybe 6, that I can recall. Sam, I'm not sure…" I paused again to gather my thoughts, and my nerves. "I'm not sure if there was anybody I don't remember. I'm not sure how long… I don't know if it was just a few hours or a few days, I honestly don't know." I wasn't sure how to continue, so I just talked. I talked like he wasn't in the room, like I was talking to myself, reminiscing on the memories, alone.

"I lost all track of time. I lost all sense of where I was and what was happening. All I could feel was pain. A lot of pain. How bad was it? It was bad enough I couldn't even tell if my body was whole or if it had been ripped in half. I couldn't tell where the pain was coming from. It just covered my entire body, so did all the sweat and blood and other bodily fluids. I couldn't think straight. I had an old rag shoved in my mouth. Taped to stay in place. I know I was screaming, screaming and crying like a little girl. No one could hear me, it was muffled, but I couldn't stop screaming. Everything they did made me want to vomit, but I couldn't because my mouth was blocked. I swallowed it back down more times than I can remember."

I hadn't even realized I was talking the way I was. "I don't know when, but at some point, I couldn't even keep my eyes open anymore. When I did it just made my head swim. It was constant touching. Strangers' bodies lying on me, strangers' hands touching me, fondling me. It… it felt like it was never going to end. I, I remember hearing laughter, like it was funny, like all of this was some sick joke. I remember hearing them make bets on who could hurt me the worst. They would tell me how good I was, how much they were enjoying this. I remember them asking me if it was enough pain yet, but not waiting for an answer before they just caused more. I'm not sure, especially since I couldn't keep my eyes open the whole time, or pick my head up to look around, but I think some of them, they had more than one time with me. And….and I…I'm, I'm almost certain there were other body, other parts, it felt like someone had put a hand… I mean fingers, yeah, they were everywhere, but it felt like the whole…I don't know. There was so much pain I can't be sure of anything, except the pain."

I had stopped, I couldn't speak anymore through the tears that were falling harder than they have ever fallen before. I hadn't realized my brother had left his bed and sat beside me on mine. He had taken the bottle out of my hand and sat it on the night stand.

"Dean, I'm here, it's going to be okay". He said in a calming tone as he wrapped his arms around me.

I didn't fight him, I didn't try to act strong, I just leaned into him. I allowed myself to be weak, to break, to let my brother hold me up. I buried my face in his shoulder and cried. I just cried, as hard as I could, I cried. I let every emotion, every memory, every hurt release at that moment, knowing it was going to be okay. Knowing I wasn't going to be punished for it, knowing I was safe. Safe in my brother's arms.


	11. Chapter 11

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 11

I could feel the shaking of my body begin to calm. I felt the tears lessen. My brother's shirt, beneath my face, was soaked from the pain I released. My breathing slowed to an almost normal rate. My heart had quit feeling like it was beating out of my chest. I'm not sure what time it was. I don't know how long I had sat there, pouring every ounce of myself out onto my brother. I could still feel his arms around me, holding me, protecting me from myself, my self-destructive self.

I didn't want to move. I wanted to stay in the calm, safety of my little brother. I didn't want to face myself, my life, after the moment I had just had. Talk about a school girl moment. That went far beyond any chick flick moment I had ever had. That was a complete break. Something I've needed for a long time. Something I have been on the edge of for several years. But, still, all I could hear in my head right now was my dad, "no boy of mine is gonna cry", "you better dry those eyes boy, toughen up".

I pushed myself lightly from Sammy's arms. His arms were loose enough they just gave way as I pulled myself away. I sat with my back against the wall and my head leaned back, both hands covering my face to wipe it dry. I'm not even sure what Sammy was doing. I know he was still sitting beside me, but I hadn't come all the way back to reality yet.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you really believe what you said?"

What I said? What I said? I had said so much I wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about. I pulled my hands from my face and straightened my head so I was looking straight forward instead of at the ugly ceiling.

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that, Sammy" I said as I continued to try to gather myself in my head.

"Do you really think you deserved that?"

I turned and looked at my brother. His face was red and soaked from the tears he had cried too. His eyes equally as red. But that expression on his face, the one mixed with so much concern and so much hurt. At that moment I knew I had to be completely honest. I knew this conversation wasn't over. At that moment I knew Sammy needed more from me.

"It wasn't your fault" I whispered, I hadn't intended to whisper but that's all that would come out when I tried to speak.

"Okay, but, do you really think you deserved it?" he asked again, sounding like he didn't believe me when I told him it wasn't his fault.

"Sammy, I…" I really wasn't sure how to answer that, a part of me did but a part of me didn't. "I don't know. Yeah, I guess, in a way I did. Maybe it's just the way I've been conditioned? I don't know. I feel like I mess up a lot, yes. I know I'm a screw up at a lot of things, no matter how I may act, that's all it is, acting."

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before continuing. I had to think a little clearer. I couldn't look at Sam anymore, the hurt on his face was too much to handle. "Do I think I deserve to be punished for being a screw up? Yeah, I do. I think the universe does that every day. Dad did it all the time. But, I don't think… in a way… I'm not sure I deserved things as bad as it was." I finished. Hoping he understood what I was saying because I couldn't get my brain to seem to work properly.

"Do you really have that low of an opinion of yourself? Do you really think you're that big of a screw up? Dean, everything bad that happens Isn't the universe's way of punishing you. It's just bad stuff that happens, to everybody, every day, everywhere."

I'm telling you, the wisdom that kid has is not something I taught him.

"Sure," he admitted, "sometimes I wonder what in the hell I've done that was so bad that I've deserved things that have happened in my life, but, there's also been times I've wondered what I've done that was so right that I deserved a brother like you."

Wow, I wasn't sure what to say to that. Speechless, once again.

"Dean, you don't realize how awesome you are." He continued "I've been following you around, looking up to you my entire life. I've always wanted to be just like you. Not Dad, not some superhero on tv, YOU. There has never been anyone better than my own big brother." He wiped the tears from his eyes, "I know you've sacrificed a lot for me. I know you've gone out of your way to make sure I was safe and happy. I'll probably never know exactly how much, I mean I didn't realize until now some of the things you've done for me. I know there's no way I would ever be able to repay you. But, I also know you would never expect to be repaid. I don't know if you realize it or not, but that makes you pretty damn awesome." He completed.

"Sammy, I, I can't, I can't believe that," I finally managed to stutter out.

"What? Why?"

"Because, because if I, if I did then, well, then that would mean that, that everything that's happened in my life, everything that's happened, it would be for, for no reason. I, I can't, I can't believe that. I can't believe my life, my, my life is a lie. That's how I've, how I've managed. Th…that's how I get by. That's my coping. Knowing, knowing that I deserve… I deserve what I get. I'm, I'm okay with that, Sammy, I'm okay with that. I'm okay with…with everything, everything bad happening to me, I'll take whatever the universe wants to give me, whatever it wants, as long… just as long as you, you don't have to go through what I have."

I finally finished what I was saying, stuttering over every word I spoke. By the change in Sam's expression I had hoped he understood, he understood that the only way I could handle all the things I've had to face in life was to believe somehow, I deserved it. If I didn't deserve it then why the hell would it be happening? That's a thought I didn't have time to consume myself with. That's the type of thought that will get you killed out in the world.

"Damn it, Sammy! I can't do this anymore! I just can't do this!" I had stood from the bed and yelled. I'm not sure why I was yelling. I was frustrated, I guess. "I'm so tired of feeling like a failure, I even fail at my own feelings. Even my very thoughts are failures! I can't even think, or breathe, right, apparently! I'm sorry that I can't be as perfect as you are. You're the good one, the one Dad loved the most."

I had started pacing around the room. "I have always just been his little soldier, following his every order. I don't know what I deserved or didn't deserve. I just wanted to make everyone happy. Dad was happy. He was happy he had me, his fighting buddy, his soldier, his bait, his punching bag, whatever he wanted it was me, not you, me! You were happy, you were safe, you stayed unharmed, well the best I could keep you anyhow. You had an innocent childhood, until you started asking questions. Even after you found everything out, I made Dad out to be a hero in your eyes. I didn't want you to think bad of him, or me. No matter what I had to sacrifice it was worth it to make sure everyone else was happy."

I was exhausted. My emotions had gotten the best of me. "Everyone but me, that is. But I, I didn't matter, I still don't, okay? This is my life, my punishment for my existence! For failing you and Dad in so many ways. I had one job, Sammy, one job! And I sucked at it!" Why was I yelling? I really did feel that way but I didn't mean to lash out on Sam like that, he just happened to be the only person around to lash out at.

"Okay," Sam said shyly, "I get it Dean, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for trying to make you see your worth. I'll stop, I won't say another word, but just know that no matter what you think about yourself, you will always be my awesome big brother in my eyes." He stopped talking with that. He stood up from my bed, went to the bathroom, got ready for bed, and laid down, turning out his light.

"Damn, I just royally fucked up" I whispered in a low enough voice Sammy couldn't hear me. I just pushed the one person I truly needed away. "Hey Sammy" I said in the darkness, as I was beginning to lay in my bed. "How about you and I get out of this rat hole in the morning?"

no answer…

"I'll take that as a yes" I said.

Still no answer…

"Good night, Sammy" I said as I turned my back to his and let the silent tears fall, soaking the pillow that I laid my head on.


	12. Chapter 12

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

CHAPTER 12

Morning broke, the sun peeping through the crack between the shades. I must have been laying in the exact wrong spot on the bed, the sun shined directly on my face, waking me much too early. I dreaded today. I wasn't sure why, but I did. I had become content with the safety of this dingy motel room. I would have been okay locking myself away, inside this room, and never seeing day again. Why was that damn sun so bright? Didn't it know I was trying to sleep?

Okay, well honestly, I hadn't gotten a good night's rest in the past couple months. I slept a lot, yes, but it was never restful. My dreams seemed to only be full of memories and pain. Drowning, drowning in my own sorrows. I couldn't continue to live this way. If I was going to live this life, something, anything, had to change.

I glanced over at the bed beside me. Sammy was still sleeping, sounds of soft snoring coming from this bed. I slid out of bed, quietly, stopping to sit on the side of the bed, resting my head in my hands. Giving my face a hard wipe, as to wipe the dreariness out of my body, out of my head. I panned my eyes around the room. I couldn't believe we had been staying in such a rundown place for so long, and I never once heard Sammy complain about it.

Had things gotten that bad? That Sammy wouldn't even complain about staying in filth? I was sure it was because he didn't want to add to my misery. Since when did my annoying, pain in the ass brother care about my misery? Since when had I shown my misery?

Damn it Dean! You're losing it, I thought to myself. With a long, low sigh I had let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in. I forced myself to stand from the bed, grabbed my belongings and headed to the bathroom to take care of my morning business, and shower. I made it into the bathroom.

When I sat my clothing down I had realized I absentmindedly picked up my hand gun, the one that felt so comfortable in my hands. The one I had grown used to carrying in my waistband. Its shiny metal glowing in the dim motel bathroom light. Everything was okay, back to normal. I made my little pain in the ass brother give my gun back a while ago. Everything was okay. I was okay. I was okay. I was okay.

I was okay. If that were true, then why? Why was I sitting on this cold hard bathroom floor, wearing nothing but my boxers, shaking, crying, tears running down my face, unchecked, holding this all too comfortable feeling hunk of metal to my head? But, I was okay.

My labored breathing turned into panting. I slid the cold, hard barrel of my gun down my face, across the center of my chest, until it came to a rest in my lap. I closed my eyes tightly as I tilted my head back until it came to a rest on the wall behind me. I could feel the tears falling but refused to allow myself to make any sound.

I don't think my face could scrunch any tighter, as I lowered my head to meet my raising hand. Gun still cocked, held tightly in my right hand, rested on my lap. I covered my face with my left hand. Nononono, NO, I was okay. What the hell was I doing?

"I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay…" I repeated over and over in a low whisper between each pant of breath.

I was whispering so low I could barely hear myself speaking. My body trembling, my unsteady gun hand, trembling, trying to convince myself I was okay. If I couldn't convince myself how the hell was I going to convince Sammy? Maybe I didn't have to? Maybe I could just get it all over with, right now, and I wouldn't have to ever convince myself, or anyone else, that I was fine, ever again. Just a quick squeeze of the….

"DEAN!" Sammy's voice yelled from the other side of the door. "If you don't answer me I'm breaking this door down." He continued.

I wondered how long I had been sitting here. I wondered how long Sammy had been trying to get my attention. Long enough that he had woken from his sleep, long enough that he had worried that I was in here so long.

"What!" I yelled back, irritated that he distracted my thoughts, but instantly regretting my choice to raise my voice.

He had every right to be concerned, rather he realized it or not, he may have just saved my life. I forced myself off the floor, laying the gun on top of the pile of clothes I carried in to change into after my shower. The shower I never took. I dried my face as fast as I could, fumbled with the handle for a minute, unlocking the door. With my head hung low, not wanting to look at Sammy any more than I wanted him to look at me, I pushed past his body that towered me.

"Leave me alone, Sammy" I said as I made my way to the bed, laying down, and covering myself, including my head, with the blankets. I had no will to continue. No will to go on with the day.

After a few moments I felt the bed beside me give way, and the covers tug just a little, as Sammy sat down beside where I laid.

"Dean, what the hell is going on man?"

I knew my brother well enough that I could hear the frustration in his voice but I could also tell he was trying to keep his tone calm and even. Why? Oh shit! The gun! I was so stupid! I left the gun, still loaded and cocked, safety turned off, laying on my clothes, in the place I had spent so much time in that it concerned my brother.

Shit! Shit! Shit! I thought to myself. Hating myself so much at that moment. Hating myself for allowing my weakness to show. Sure, I could come up with some excuse, some reason the gun was there, perhaps, I heard a sound? Thought it was a monster of some type? Or maybe I just needed it for protection? But protection against what? Damn, why even try? Why even care? So what, so what if I had come so close to splattering my brains all over the wall. What did it really matter?

I laid under the covers, my body shivering, even though it wasn't cold in the room. I didn't answer his question. I didn't even acknowledge that I had heard him. I just wanted him to go away.

"Go away, Sammy!" I said in frustration.

Why the hell can't he just leave me alone? All I could hear right now, in my head, was my father's voice. Telling me, reminding me, how useless I was. How I didn't amount to anything in life, how dumb I was. If he had to choose, he would have chosen Sammy over me any day. Sam, Sammy, he was HIS boy. He was the son he always wanted. The one who could go from being sweet and innocent to a mean green killing machine in a matter of seconds. Everything he ever done was perfect. I was just a screw up. Just a good little soldier, and nothing else.

I had to remain in a state of strength, even if I wasn't strong, I had to put on the act. I couldn't let anything else show through. Just toughness. If I wasn't tough enough, well, Dad would take care of that. He would beat the toughness into me if he had to. He would make sure I could handle more and more every time his anger came out. He made sure that when I thought I couldn't take anymore, I still took more.

Realizing Sammy was still sitting on the bed beside me, all these thoughts running through my head, all the self-hatred making my head spin.

"I can't take anymore, I can't do this…. I…I don't want to…. anymore…. Sammy…. I don't want to." I said with tears falling, soaking the pillow under my head.

Labored breathing again. My body wouldn't stop trembling. I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't stop myself from being some weak ass son of a bitch. Pulling the covers off my head, hoping it would help me breathe a little easier, I shook my head while wiping off the tears that soaked my face.

"If Dad could see me now," I half chuckled, half frustrated, continued "he would beat this damn weakness out of me". I knew I was right, but I couldn't believe I just admitted that to Sammy. "SON OF A BITCH!" I yelled at myself! Throwing the covers off and shooting to a sitting position. "Let's just get the hell out of here Sammy. I can't do this anymore. I'm either going to just finish everything, finish off this miserable life, or I need to get back out there, live again."

I knew he knew I meant what I said. I would do it! I would end everything. It would only take a quick squeeze. I stood up, went to where I had left my pile of clothes, of course my gun was missing. I put on the clean clothes and walked back out into the room. I held my hand out to Sammy.

"Give it" I said, "Give my gun back".

"Dean," followed by a clearing of his throat, "Dean, please, just talk to me. You can't keep doing this. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep worrying every moment of the day if you are safe from yourself or not. And, you can't keep feeling the way you do. Something has to give, bro. Will you sit down? Please? You may not need this, but I do, Dean, I do. I need to talk about my feelings. I need to be reassured everything is going to be okay"

I feel like de ja vu just hit. Haven't we already had this conversation while we were held captive by this dingy, rundown motel room? "I'm fine, Sammy" I said, "I'm fine. Now let's get the hell out of here." I repeated.

Sammy rolled his eyes. Neither of us budging on our own wants. I let out a big huff and sat on the bed. "fine," I said. Sammy looked up at me, confused on what I was agreeing on. "I'll tell you what," I continued. "How about we both get the hell out of here, you can talk, have your feely chick flick moment while I drive. I… I just can't handle these walls anymore. I don't care where we go. We will drive till we feel like stopping. And, I'll let you talk the whole way if you want." Instantly regretting my next sentence, "I'll even interact with you, talk back, okay?" I sighed to myself, not all too happy that I agreed to join in with his feely crap. "Please, Sammy, I need this. I need to be in Baby, driving, living again, please." I felt myself starting to plead with him to leave.

"Okay, fine." Sammy replied. "But, remember, you promised to talk back." He reminded as we grabbed the last few remaining items, threw them in our bags. I picked up the notebook I had been writing in since we arrived here. I took a long hard look at it and let out a sigh. I held it over the trash can, ready to rid myself of the memories it held.

"Can I read it?" I heard Sam ask before I could release it from my hands. I thought for a moment. My mind, my life, my memories were in there. All in black and white. All wrote out in detailed form. I turned with the book still in my hand, tossed it across the room as Sammy caught it midair.

"whatever, Bitch" I said as I gave it a toss. "Maybe it'll give you something to do besides talk and annoy me." I added as I threw my duffle over my shoulder and headed out the door. Leaving this town and raggedy, rundown hotel in our rearview mirror.


End file.
